


The Iacon Legacy

by ntldr



Series: The Iacon Prophecy Series [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Infertility, M/M, Mech Preg, barbarian au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2018-11-18
Packaged: 2018-11-29 18:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11447019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ntldr/pseuds/ntldr
Summary: Barbarian AU.  Sequel to "The Iacon Prophecy."Once upon a time, all that Sideswipe needed to protect was himself and his twin brother.  Now he has a mate, a tribe, ahome,and as he tries for something more, he'll need a greater power than an old map to protect all that he loves from the war threatening to destroy the planet...The prophecy did not speak of Iacon's secrets.





	1. Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers! Welcome back!
> 
> For those new to this series, I _strongly_ recommend that you go back and read "The Iacon Prophecy" before beginning this story; much will be written with the impression that the reader is already familiar with the characters and events leading up to this point. 
> 
> I'm sorry to say that I cannot promise to update as quickly as I did with "The Iacon Prophecy" anymore, however, I will try hard to maintain my goal of updating at least once per week. Considering how large "Iacon Prophecy" ended up being, that'll still be plenty to read!
> 
> And without further ado:

Chapter 1: Judgement

The flames of the dual torches flickered as they ate away at the stale air of the underground. The two mechs walked slowly and carefully, aware that the tunnel hadn’t yet been stabilized and that the risk of them being buried alive was great. Still, they pressed on, shoulder-to-shoulder as they walked, filling the width of the tunnel and not missing a thing as their glowing blue optics continued to explore darkness beyond the light of the flames. 

The dusty granules of rust particles parted into clouds on either side of their feet with each step. It clung to the lower parts of their armor, and soon enough one of them was grumbling that it was sticking to his clothing while the other one chuckled and let him complain. Their vents whirled, keeping the dust out of their systems, though their legs and the edges of their clothing became stained as brownish-red, much to the first mech’s chargain. 

Soon enough the uneven ground gave way to structured, plated flooring. This was still covered in dust, though now the spread was thinner. Both mechs quieted their voices. The only sounds were of their slowing footsteps along the once-immaculately tiled floors, and the crackle of the flames of the their torches as the tunnel emerged into a yawning, oval cavern, the far end barely lit by their twin sources of light.

They stood a moment, silently contemplating the sight before them. The tiered platforms that rounded the giant room suggested of how those who had once sat within were organized by class, or perhaps by importance, or by who could afford the best seats. The open space in the center, shaped similarly as the perimeter of the room, held several smaller stands for someone to address those in the tiers surrounding him. Beams of light from where parts of the high ceiling had caved in highlighted certain aspects of the room, and one happened to spotlight directly onto the stand, as it would have vorns ago as someone addressed the superiors of the city of Iacon.

“...Looks more like a small gladiator arena to me,” the first mech whispered to the second, as if the sparks of those who still haunted this place might shriek back to life if he were too loud.

The second mech shrugged. “The stuff in the middle is removable. Maybe they did slag like that on their days off.”

“Feels weird to see it like this.”

“Kaon was--”

“Kaon is different than things are _now._ Now, if we’ve got a problem, we just go straight to the Prime, not through all of--” he spread his hands out at the cavern, “--this. All this slagging _judgement.”_

They took a moment longer to pretend that the seats were filled, and that hundreds of pairs of optics were staring down at the intruders coming in from the hall, and that they’d be puzzled by the heavier, mercenary-grade armor present in the Halls of the Senate, and would have been _baffled_ by their clothing: a cloak on the first mech, a poncho on the second, and waist-cloths tied around the hips of both. Surely someone would have objected to them carrying something as primitive as a _torch_ in a great city of Iacon.

But those mechs were long since deactivated. Maybe pieces of their rusted frames were now a part of the dust that their feet trudged through.

The second mech nudged the first. “Let’s spread out. I’ll go this way, you go that way.”

“Right.”

More of the room was illuminated as they separated to explore. The first mech stalked the lower tiers, the second one on the higher, searching under around the long, nearly-unbroken circles of benches and tables pointed towards the center. Ever so often one of them would stoop under a seat, looking underneath it, brushing away the dust with their hands until they were stained the dirty color of rust as well. 

“...Think I’ve got something!”

The first one held his torch a little higher as both of them straightened, blue optics narrowing inside the shadows cast on his face. “Yeah? Are they still working?”

The datapads were shaken off, and when that didn’t dislodge all of the dust the second mech took in a deep ventilation of air before blowing it back out across the screen’s front, trying to clean it. The granules cascaded off into the air in a wave that hung around and floated serenely to the ground as he frowned and rubbed his thumb over the etchings and buttons at the bottom of the pad.

“Dunno. They’re not powering on.”

The benches creaked as the golden mech disregarded going back the way he’d come to find the stairs in favor of climbing right over the tables, hefting himself up from tier to tier, his cloak hanging a little more heavily down his back with the weight of the debris clinging to it. More dust billowed out around his peds when he was on the right tier and jumped to the floor. “Frag. Maybe they can be taken apart?”

“Or Perceptor can work out a way of charging their batteries. Sunny, look how intricate just the _buttons_ are,” he breathed, scraping more of the dust off with one finger. “This looks like none of the slag in Kaon.”

A shoulder pressed against his own as Sunstreaker peered down at it, his torch held up above the pad to give them some good light. His optics refreshed once, and Sideswipe wisely went quiet for a breem, knowing that his twin’s processor was analyzing the markings in ways that his own could never conceive.

“...It’s Iaconian,” he said at last.

Sideswipe huffed. “You can’t read Iaconian any more than I can.”

“Yeah, but I’ve seen enough of the characters to know what they look like. But these,” A black fingertip traced the design on the face of one button, “these aren’t ones I’ve seen before. It’s the same style of writing, but more…”

“Opulent?”

 _“Conceited._ ”

His optic ridge raised up while both of Sunstreaker’s furrowed. _“Conceited?_ How so?”

“I mean it looks like more of an adornment than something that you’d want to tap your finger on while you were working on a datapad. It’s pretty, but its functionality is scrap.”

Sideswipe’s processor muddled over the idea, and now Sunstreaker was quiet as he waited, his blue optics flicking his way as he let his twin consider that information.

“Let’s say this was a design flaw,” Sideswipe announced after a breem. “You’re in a meeting, you’re pushing this button over and over again, ow, ow, ow, it hurts, why don’t you fix it? Either there’s no way to fix it, or...you’re not using it enough to notice the problem. So what if it scratches up your fingertip? It’s not like you’ll be pressing it every orn.”

Sunstreaker shifted on his feet. “So...what? We’re looking at some of the earliest datapads, before the Iaconians realized that they could make life easier by making simpler buttons?”

Sideswipe grinned toothily at him. “Considering how old this room is? Maybe.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“This is going to take a quarter of an orn to wash out!”

“Then why’d you wear it?”

“Because it’s _nice!”_

One twin snickered at the other and flapped the bottom of his poncho, trying to rid himself of some of the rust granules and grime while they were still climbing around the tunnels. Sunstreaker did the same with his longer cloak, scowling at the portion of it in his hands that was badly stained, and although Sideswipe’s more rugged poncho was easier to take care of he did miss that their ‘clothing’ no longer matched. Receiving a new cloak of that quality meant visiting one of the other tribes to the south, and such a journey was...not plausible right now.

There was too much going on. Too much to worry about.

And this was _after_ they’d finally made it safely to the ancient city of Iacon.

The terrain within the tunnels became violently uneven as they picked their way through the interior of a building that had fallen on its side. By now they were close enough to the surface that streams of orange light burned their way through holes in the ‘ceiling’, and they extinguished their torches and left them behind on the remains of a table for when they’d next be back this way. The remains of a door was on the floor, wide open and a rectangular trap into a bottomless cavern, and the twins carefully avoided it as they instead headed to the rubble where the foundation of the building once stood, now rubble that they hefted themself up on as they headed for the surface.

“Hot Rod wants to come with us next time.”

“Oh?” Sideswipe made sure that he had a good foothold on the jagged edge of a twisted beam before grunting and shoving himself up to the next ledge. “You’re not going to try to talk him out of it?”

“I tried. I thought I got through. Springer told me before we recharged last night that it didn’t do any good. If we don’t let him, he’s going to follow us, so we may as well keep him within optic range.”

Sideswipe snickered, and prodded the other half of his spark over their bond, receiving a ‘shove’ back in response. “You’re becoming quite the carrier, Sunny.”

“Oh _frag you,_ I am _not_ a slagging carrier,” Sunstreaker snapped, sweeping his cloak behind his back so that it didn’t get caught on anything. “I just keep an eye on the son of a glitch is all.”

“Uh-huh.”

Another poke. Another shove. And Sideswipe’s spark felt like it was spinning faster in glee.

As their optics adjusted to the introduction of unfiltered light and the rubble began to level out, they were surrounded by a low hum and a sweet smell. They could have moved faster but chose not to.

After all, these crystals that had grown wild all over the dilapidated buildings were partly of why some had not collapsed entirely. And...they were a part of what Iacon was now.

The glow of each crystal brightened a little at the mechs’ approach. By now the twins had seen this often enough that they were no longer intrigued by it, but that made it no less beautiful, especially in the darker parts of the rubble where their glow splashed a spectrum of color over the walls and their frames.

“C’mon, you like him.”

“I take care of him because Springer doesn’t know what the frag he’s doing.”

Sunstreaker’s voice wasn’t attentive, and Sideswipe understood why, and he was not offended. His twins optics weren’t on him. They were glancing from the wall to the ceiling and back down.

Sunstreaker liked to come up to these caverns on his own at night, but never to splunk too deeply inside. The first night that he’d done that Sideswipe had been concerned and followed him. Afterwards, he let him be, and enjoyed the soothing pulses coming from Sunstreaker’s end of the bond as he simply sat and found peace in the kaleidoscope of colors shimmering through the cave.

He hadn’t felt such a dramatic change in Sunstreaker since he started to paint again, just before Sideswipe had taken the job that had eventually found them in Iacon.

“...You think that you’ll ever…?”

“We’re _comfortable,_ Sideswipe. I think that’s as far as we’ll ever take it. And speaking of that--”

This time the poking and prodding came from the other side of the bond at the same time that they hauled themselves over the edge of a cliff that had once been a long piece of a wall, and found that they now had enough room to stand and walk.

“How’re things going with you and Prowl?!”

“...”

...Sunstreaker was decent enough to poke only one more time before he backed off.

With his spark now bonded to another, sometimes Sideswipe needed the reminder that even his mate didn’t understand him the way that his _twin_ did. Sunstreaker only needed a little bit of information, a short, weak pulse to understand exactly what was going through Sideswipe’s processor. Or, rather, his emotional state. _Sideswipe_ didn’t know what was running through his own processor sometimes. Though he did now, and so did Sunstreaker.

Yet his twin didn’t know how to _respond_ with anything but empathetic silence.

Sideswipe cleared his vents with a short inhale before speaking in a low voice.

“We don’t know what’s wrong. Ratchet gave us some remedies, and we’ve gotten a slag-ton of advice, but...I don’t know. As far as I know we’re doing everything correctly.”

“You sure that you’re sticking your spike in the right port?”

That made Sideswipe abruptly cackle, and _humor_ pulsed out from his spark and glowed directly to his twin’s briefly. _“Sa,_ I’m sure.”

“...Maybe you’re just incomp--”

“I’m not going to give up yet. We’ll just...We’ll keep trying.”

“You’re sure?”

“We bonded on our first try, and I was barely aware of what was happening at the time. We’re compatible, I’m sure of it.”

Yet it had been almost a quarter of a vorn since the Autobots had come to Iacon, and Sideswipe had yet to make good on his promise to Prowl.

He didn’t know why, but something deep down in his spark told him that _he_ was the cause of the problem, not Prowl. Perceptor had insisted that there was no physiological difference between city and wildland mechs; nothing was blocking their systems from igniting a spark. Yet as much as they tried--

“I’m not going to give up,” he repeated, then, as an afterthought, bent down and plucked up one of the nearby crystals, and it shimmered before settling on a rich, dark blue color. Prowl would like this one. “This is actually the greatest problem to have. I get all the interfacing I could ever want!”

“Heh. No wonder you look so run down.”

“Hey!”

The crystal went into his subspace pocket, right next to the old datapads, and continued to glow dark blue.

There had been a time in his life, back in his _old_ life, when Sideswipe would emerge from the bar at the aft-crack of dawn and keep refreshing his optics until they adjusted to the hazy light of the early morning in Kaon. Despite the smoke and the noise, there’d always been the sense of relief and liberty of escaping into something greater than himself, where for a short time he was not a gladiator nor a mercenary, but simply a resident of _Cybertron._

That moment of oneness never lasted long. Someone would yell at him for blocking the sidewalk. Or he’d get run over by a delivery ‘bot.

He was emerging out onto a street again. 

But there was no early-morning ‘bots snarling at him to clear the way as they dragged themselves off to their jobs. No delivery mechs scurrying around him. No vendors yelling at him to refuel from _their_ specially-crafted blend. No transports honking at him to get on if he didn’t want to wait twenty breems for the next one.

There was nothing but Iacon.

There was nothing but _Cybertron._

...And Sunstreaker.

He felt a ‘poke’ on their bond that was far gentler than before. “Never gets old, does it?”

The juxtaposition of city and wildland was just as fascinating as it had been all those deca-cycles ago. The exit of the rubble felt like that they were emerging from one of the underground trains, especially considering that they were surrounded by high-rise buildings, but the noise and bustle of the city was not there. Instead they were replaced by the droning hum of hundreds of thousands of crystals crawling up the foundations and sides of the structures, some of which had tumbled down anyway, or were leaning on one another.

The streets were battered and cracked, and some yawned open into pits. The lowest part of one of them had turned into a river that swept through what was once a merchant district, now a haven for the thickest of the crystals. Somewhere at the beginning of the river were a collection of energon wells that had been tapped and verified as safe for refueling.

And this was in the _downtown_ area, where the tribe prefered not to make camp. It was too risky to place their tents so close to structurally unsound buildings, or so Red Alert had said.

So, for now, the twins walked alone through the streets of the great city of Iacon.

Nothing about them but Iacon, and Cybertron. And each other.

...And that other ‘poke’ at his spark, much further away, much weaker, and would have barely been noticed if he hadn’t known by now what it felt like and how to look for it.

Sideswipe answered it with a warmer pulse, a promise that the twins were on their way back and had been successful in their expedition. 

As the passed an overpass where he and Prowl and climbed up and spent the night not long after their arrival, he did briefly wrestle with the idea of how a city that barely understood their own datapads would have made such an massive and intricate transportation system, or why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also now have a secondary tumblr [right over here,](https://ntldr-writes.tumblr.com/) if you're interested in little snippets and drabbles!


	2. Puzzle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick reminder that this story is rated 'Mature' for a reason, folks, and we're getting right into the content for that rating early.
> 
> Some readers are happily applauding this, but I can't emphasize enough, this is NOT rated "Teen and Up." If you shouldn't be reading this, then fucking please don't.

Chapter 2: Puzzle

Sideswipe braced his knees on the berth, and his vocalizer slipped out a long moan as he kept rocking back and forth. White hands touched and stroked at his face far more clumsily than his mate’s normally careful and controlled movements. Prowl’s fingers spasmed during a particularly deep thrust, and Sideswipe turned his head slightly to kiss and mouth sloppily at the other mech’s palm as the two of them became lost in their passion.

A vorn ago he would have never believed that he’d stay with one mech for so long, let alone become bonded to them. And then for that mech to be from the wildlands on top of everything. He was his mate, not just his bonded, not just a partner, his _mate._ And all that was not even considering that they were nearly as far from Kaon as one could possibly get, and in a _tent._ It was so different than the future he'd imagined for himself, when there was anything to imagine and hope for at all. But he'd never dreamed of _this._

“AAAH!!”

A white-and-black leg kicked at one side of his hip. Sideswipe’s optics flickered back on and he grinned down at his mate who was gasping through his mouth as he tried to get his ventilations under control.

“Too hard?”

Prowl rolled his head back and forth on the pillow, his best attempt at shaking his head at the moment as he gasped up at him. “ _Na._ Keep going. Keep going.”

Sideswipe happily obliged him.

He shifted, sinking his spike deeper and deeper into his mate. Prowl’s legs spread a little further, giving him better access. Primus, they’d been interfacing so much since they’d agreed to try for a sparkling that the two of them now knew _exactly_ what the other liked, and as Sideswipe pressed into the deepest, tightest parts of Prowl’s valve, Prowl kept trying to touch him, drawing Sideswipe’s attention to all parts of him and overstimulating him and making his optics flicker until his processor was trapped in a loop of declaring how much he loved and desired his mate.

His spark was eagerly joining in, leaping and spinning around in its casing and ‘shouting’ across the bond how much it loved the other spark that it had bonded to, and it glowed as it received those same warm pulses back. One of the happiest moments of Sideswipe’s life had been assuring that he and Prowl felt the same way across their bond, which held no language or cultural barrier, only the true sincerity of the _core_ of themselves. Now that Prowl understood how to show this to Sideswipe, he did it all the time, the pulses only weaker than Sideswipe’s because his control over the bond wasn’t as strong as a mech who had a twin bond all of his life.

Sunstreaker had complained sometime ago that the feelings that leaked into his bond with his twin felt “gooey.” For now the twins had up the mutually-agreed block for whenever one of them was interfacing, one that was an itching strain on two sparks that were meant to be as one and would be taken down as soon as Sideswipe was done with his mate. Of course Sunstreaker would still get _something;_ the block wasn’t perfect. 

Prowl had figured that out after the third time or so that Sunstreaker and Springer would retire together and then a few breems later Sideswipe would suddenly press himself up to his side and ask if they could go to their tent as well. The bond had lit up with Prowl’s _realization_ and Sideswipe had laughed his aft off when the white mech kept swiveling his head from his mate to Springer’s tent and back.

He felt something surging within him, his frame preparing itself, the warnings about overheating and stress on his systems ignored for something that was entirely _natural._ He knew that Prowl was almost there too without needing to peer at the bond. His mate’s ventilations had picked up into the deep, rasping tempo of a mech about to overload. Sideswipe slowed just long enough to give Prowl time to catch up, time for him to glide his spike in and out, for them both to feel it and how _good_ it felt for both of them.

The bond helped greatly with syncing their timing, and they swelled it open.

Leaning his head down until their forehelms touched, the rest of Sideswipe’s frame stiffened, and his engine _growled_ as he locked optics with his mate. Transfluid gushed out from his spike as he overloaded, spilling out into Prowl’s valve, filling him at the same time that Prowl’s frame stiffened as well with a short cry, gladly letting it all in and tightening around Sideswipe’s spike, _milking_ him for more, demanding, and Sideswipe kept rocking his hips to pump every last bit into Prowl. 

_Relief_ and _satisfaction_ and _love_ flooded through their bond, coming from both of them, bouncing off one another and relayed over and over until they had no idea who had started each pulse and they had no inclination of ending the loop. Sideswipe’s motions became slower and smoother, his fans whirling to cool both him and his mate from their overload as their frames moved into the quieter states following a good interface. Both of them kept ventilating hard through their mouths, warm air blowing on each other’s faces, optics still locked as they gazed at one another.

Sideswipe wanted to lower himself down, gather Prowl close, and snuggle into him and recharge. Had this been before they’d gotten to Iacon, that’s exactly what he would have done.

But he’d made a promise. And he felt good about their chances this time.

Sideswipe adjusted his stance so that he was putting his weight on his elbows on either side of Prowl’s head, their forehelms still touching. “You wanna try to--?”

“ _Sa,_ for Primus’s sake, _sa._ You know that.”

That’s all Sideswipe needed.

His chestplate unhitched and pulled back, and Prowl’s followed his lead. Blue light washed over both of their faces, though their optics continued to stay on each other.

They didn’t need to see it anymore. Their sparks already knew what to do.

Sideswipe lowered himself, closing the distance between their two frames, until the space between the two spark chambers was small enough that their sparks could journey out for a relatively safe distance to explore each other. The blue light was shuttered slightly by the edges of their armor sliding over one another, but neither of them noticed. Sideswipe was barely aware of Prowl’s arms wrapping around the back of his neck, cradling his helm and holding him close. 

All of his senses were cast down to his core, his _spark._ He knew that Prowl was doing the same.

He felt his spark swirling and dancing about, eager to merge with his mate’s. It called to Prowl in a way Sideswipe didn’t quite understand; he knew that he was calling Prowl but he had never _said_ his name, and yet Prowl responded, or rather, his _spark_ responded. It was dancing too, spinning and flying around the edges of its chamber, demonstrating how excited it was to see its mate’s spark as well.

Sideswipe’s crept to the end of his chamber, toying the line between the flawlessly smooth and polished chamber that it knew, the short void of space between them where a spark might rapidly wither and extinguish, and the other chamber, perfectly suited for Prowl’s spark, though it would also supply Sideswipe’s with energy for the short time that two sparks would merge into one _star._ The other spark swayed back and forth invitingly, tempting him it to come closer, its field spreading and thinning slightly so that Sideswipe’s could feel it and _long_ for it.

He did. He wanted him so badly.

His spark began to sway too, repeating the other one’s dance to a rhythm only understood by the sparks themselves, one that felt just right, as if they’d found the perfect match of each other. Sideswipe knew deep down that wasn’t completely true; he had a twin after all, his _real_ other half. But Sunstreaker was not his mate. Prowl was.

It was different with Prowl. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker had always known each other; there were few secrets about their bond that they could hide from each other. Prowl was a puzzle that Sideswipe was still unfolding, even now, and he knew his mate was doing the same with his own spark as they came closer and closer together, their fields barely touching and mingling. 

Every time he merged with Prowl...there was something new to learn.

Something new to love.

Their fields merged further into each other, both pushing forward as one at a measured pace. There was a _zap,_ a meeting of electricity, a flash of a static, just enough that both of their frames jolted, and then their sparks twirled together at a point of their meeting, a point of gravity, pulling them both further in as they spun around one another, faster and faster, a pair of dual stars swirling through the night.

_Pleasure_ shot through their bond, and it took Sideswipe a micro-breem to realize that it was coming from _himself_ and then loudly bouncing back and forth across their bond, the echo reaching him before Prowl pulsed his own back to him. It occurred to him too that his spike was still inside of Prowl’s valve and he was pumping in and out of him again, the motions much lighter and slower as to not disrupt the spark merge. It was beyond his spark’s senses, but his frame sensed it, his processor interpreted it, his cortex savored it, and his spark was told about what the rest of what ‘Sideswipe’ was doing and _loved_ it. Better yet, the same _pleasure_ was coming from Prowl, raw and unfiltered, and with their sparks touching he could share not only how much his spark liked it but how it _felt_ on his frame.

Sideswipe’s spark was aware of his own frame rattling a bit as he moaned, but it was merely background noise. 

He saw flashes of memories that were not his own.

Ratchet, suddenly much bigger than he remembered, scowling as he repaired a little black-and-white arm.

He was crawling behind a stem of crystals, trying to catch sight of a den of turbo-wolves.

He was battling a mech that Sideswipe did not know, just as skilled as he was, blocking each one of his attacks, until the _yoska_ found an opening and stabbed the end of his staff inside.

He saw _himself._ Chattering away in a language he didn’t understand. Smiling.

For not the first time he wondered what memories Prowl was seeing. Sometimes they discussed them afterwards, but many times not. They didn’t always remember or were able to interpret what they were seeing.

They could linger for longer and toy with their sparks’ memories without fear of accidentally bonding because now they _were_ bonded. But they would not dawdle in shared spark-memories tonight. There was work to be done.

As one, they pressed in further, pushing towards what Sideswipe’s friends and mentors and lovers back in Kaon had warned him never to do.

Their sparks told even more of each other, things that Sideswipe’s cortex had no hope of interpreting, but his spark understood perfectly. Their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their wants…

The core of what they were.

Their essences merged.

Sideswipe felt himself spasm, and so did Prowl. They couldn’t hold this deep merge for long; it would become too much of a strain on their systems. 

For a short time they were not _'I, Sideswipe,'_ and _'I, Prowl,'_ but they were _'we,'_ and then _'I._

The puzzle that was his mate was unlocked and thrown wide open.

He saw it all. He understood it all.

He understood his mate, he _was_ his mate.

Their essences began to mold, form, and throw in pieces of themselves into their center. The pieces collected and swirled around themselves, becoming something new. It _wanted_ to form something, something that was neither Sideswipe nor Prowl, but an amalgamate between the two.

It just needed one more spark, one more _zap,_ to become something of its own. An ignition. 

The two sparks melded, they touched, and in a plane beyond reality Sideswipe felt himself cradling Prowl, until he remembered that _was_ reality, existing somewhere beyond the dark plane he was now, as himself as merely one other spark in the Well, bonded to his other half, merged with another, trying so hard to create something together. It was as if the two of them held something between their, two clasped palms, one white and one black, and it took both of them working their fingers together to mold it into something that could exist in reality and not just in their imaginations, if it would just _hold…_

He felt his spark beginning to pull back. It was tired. It still loved it’s mate, but it was exhausted, it needed to be _itself._

Prowl and Sideswipe were different mechs. They loved each other, they’d bonded easily, but they were still _individuals_ who could tire and need to retreat. And Sideswipe couldn’t stay in the merge much longer.

_‘I_ ’ became _‘we’,_ and then _‘we’_ became _‘I, Sideswipe,’_ and _‘I, Prowl.’_

He pulsed one last time as his awareness left the dark plane and snapped back to reality, his spark turning around its own center of gravity once again, and it left the results of the ‘mold’ with Prowl as their spark pulled back into their own spark chambers. His stayed in there, spinning a bit slower and tighter, exhausted, assuring itself it was back safely in its home, and then it ‘called’ weakly for Prowl’s.

His mate’s spark didn’t answer, despite still being nearby in its own chamber.

Sideswipe’s spark twisted.

It knew that Prowl’s spark was concentrating hard on something. What they were forming between them had been passed to one spark to continue, and now it was up to that one spark alone to finish nurturing it. To work with what they had begun, to _create_ from the catalyst.

It still hurt to not get a response when their chambers were exposed to one another, when the two sparks were only about a hand’s width apart with nothing between them.

Sideswipe’s spark tried to be patient. It waited, it watched, it pulsed _encouragement_ along their bond to a spark that was so near that it could ‘hear’ the echo of itself. Prowl’s spark was struggling, though. It twisted as well.

_Frustration._

Sideswipe lingered there a little longer. Then he returned his focus to his frame, his HUD coming back into view as if it were melting into his vision and that it hadn’t just been there the entire time. He lifted himself up, his chestplates closing and locking back together, and underneath him Prowl was doing the same, the brilliant blue lights vanishing and the darkness of the night engulfing them once more.

It took him a little while longer for him to _feel_ the real world again. He smelled the crystals growing wildly all throughout Iacon. He heard the tent flapping gently in the evening wind, and the light panting of the mech under him. He saw Prowl’s blue optics come back online, illuminating the edges of his faceplates, looking for him, and then he locked onto his own.

“Anything?” Sideswipe asked, his vocalizer hoarse.

Prowl pressed his lips together, concentrating on something that only he could see.

Then he shut off his optics again, his face hidden by shadows, and shook his head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The heated high-grade in the mug steamed, filling Sideswipe’s olfactory sensors, but he refused to drink any more until Prowl had at least tried his own. “C’mon. It’ll help you recharge.”

Prowl just grimaced at it.

“...Maybe there’s something in the Iaconian energon wells that is interrupting our ability to--”

“When we started trying for a sparkling we were still eating rations made before the tribe got to Iacon, so that ain’t it. And anyway, anything extra from the wells would have been skimmed off from the way you mechs brew this slag. It’s safe.”

“Perceptor doesn’t seem to think so.”

“Perceptor said there was _less_ in its structure than regular energon out in the wildlands, not more. So that means no poison, no junk, no slag that’s interfering.” Sideswipe wrinkled his nose when Prowl only flicked skeptical optics his way. “Takes two of us to ignite a spark, and _I’m_ drinking, so you may as well do it too.”

That was logic that Prowl couldn’t refute.

Unlike Sideswipe, Prowl tended to take short, frequent sips from his high-grade, making it last longer and savoring the taste without letting it overwhelm him. Sideswipe knocked a quarter of his own drink back in a few gulps, coughed, sputtered, rattled his plating, then enjoyed the immediate buzz that worked its way through his systems and confused his stabilizers as he found the excuse to crawl back into the berth with his mate and snuggle up beside him. He felt white digits pry his mug away and put it aside, keeping him from spilling it onto the furs and blankets as he wrapped an arm and a leg around the smaller mech.

Prowl still _smelled_ like him, even after they’d cleaned up. He did now more often than not, and Sideswipe wasn’t certain if it was because he was interfacing with him so frequently, or if he was getting so protective over his mate’s scent that he saw even _himself_ as an intrusion upon it.. He’d mentioned it to Sunstreaker, and his twin guessed that it was a combination of the two. Without the city’s pollution and a variety of other distractors that could mask another mech’s scent, the two of them were learning exactly what their mates should smell like, and would bristle if something had happened to make it deviate. Pit, even the sweet smell of high-grade was nothing compared to pressing his face into Prowl’s neck and breathing in a mech that smelled of crystals and the fields and the _wildlands._

Prowl kept drinking, still deep in thought, his free arm making a pillow for Sideswipe’s helm as he reached around and stroked small circles on his back. Sideswipe could have made himself comfortable and gone to sleep if it weren’t for the pulses of _worry, worry, worry_ coming across the bond.

“We’ll get it right,” he whispered. “You’ll see.”

“We’ve got to be doing something wrong,” Prowl murmured. “I’ve talked to other carriers. They’ve never had this much difficulty.” 

Sideswipe’s chest and shoulders heaved up and down as he sighed. “So...what, we’re missing a step or something?”

“ _Na,_ I…”

The red mech held up a hand and ticked off each step by raising each of his fingers. “I stick my spike in your valve. I fragging hump you like crazy. We both overload and I give you a slagload of transfluid for making a protoform.”

Prowl sputtered into his mug, then set it down beside Sideswipe’s. “If you want to be crass about it, then I supposed that’s correct,” he grumbled.

“But am I wrong?”

“...You’re not wrong.”

“So then after you’re full of transfluid, we spark-play, and we merge deep enough that our sparks combine briefly. Your spark knows that you’re already full of transfluid and your systems are primed for creating the frame of a new-spark, so we _should_ ignite.”

“ _Sa.”_

Neither said a word further.

That was the step they were stuck on. Ignition.

No matter how hard they tried, no matter how much their bond _insisted_ that they were compatible and could ignite a new spark between them, nothing held. As far Sideswipe knew they were doing everything exactly by the book. Yet with even the perfect conditions, with their sparks merged deeply and the mold of what could become a new spark held between them, it just would not _ignite._ It would simply hang in limbo, a warm and loving bubble of bits and pieces of the essences of both sparks, the promise of what it _could_ become, but without that _flare_ of something independent, something that would change it from something that _could_ exist in the All-Spark to something that _did,_ it simply remained as a globulous mass that Prowl would desperately try to nurture and encourage until it fell apart and was quietly reabsorbed into their bond.

Sideswipe had lost track of the number of failed attempts they’d made, the number of times they’d gone to recharge while comforting each other and murmuring that tonight hadn’t been a good night, the next one would be better, they’d try again the next night…

If this was making his tanks churn with worry, he couldn’t imagine what it was doing to Prowl.

No. Actually, he could. 

He could _feel_ it through the bond.

...Primus. _Prowl._

The mech was a professional at muffling his outward emotions, if not hiding them completely. But inside their bond there was little he could do to hide himself from Sideswipe’s sight, especially when his mate had a stronger control over the bond than he did.

He didn’t mean to pry. It was _natural_ for him and Sunstreaker to look in on each other. Pit, it was _expected._ He didn’t think about widening the bond until he was already doing it, and though Prowl was not broadcasting to him, he could _eavesdrop_ just long enough to understand the foundation of the dark thoughts swirling around his cortex.

Immediately he shifted to prop himself up on an elbow so he could lean over and look straight down into Prowl’s optics. “This is _not_ your fault,” he said sharply. 

“I’m the one carrying it,” he argued. “Whenever it fails--”

“Did it fail?”

Prowl paused, considering. “... _Na,”_ he breathed, though there was no happy realization behind it. “It never came to be.”

“It never ignited. _That’s_ where the problem is. You’re not rejecting it or...destroying it.”

Sideswipe’s spark twisted. The pain that Sunstreaker had gone through when he’d lost a new-spark, as unwanted as it was, still clung to him even now, and that was on an entirely different level than what he and Prowl were going through. 

“Prowl, you’re doing everything right, believe me. I can _feel_ it there, it’s ready, its _ours,_ but it...it just doesn’t hold itself. It’s everything that’s ready to become a spark, but it’s not _sparked._ You know?”

Prowl understood. He and Sideswipe had merged and done this _together._ But that didn’t ease the clawing, itching feel of _frustration_ leaking into their bond.

“But something _has_ to be wrong. Otherwise it would ignite!”

“...We’ll go to Ratchet again in the morning,” Sideswipe conceded with a huff through his vents. “Maybe he has another idea.”

“Have you been taking the nutrients he gave you?”

Immediately he made a face. “The last time I did, my fragging spike wouldn’t calm itself down for a joor! You know how uncomfortable that was?!”

Now, finally, a little humor was beamed at him from his mate’s spark. Outwardly, Prowl only paused for a nano-breem. “It was quite a sight.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t help me. I could barely walk, I couldn’t _sleep,_ let alone roll over and get it into your--”

“ _Sa, sa.”_ He raised a palm. “No nutrients.”

Thank Primus for that.

Sideswipe had kept a few of them. He intended to find a good use for them the next time that someone fragged him off.

For now though he settled back in, the arm around Prowl pulling the smaller mech closer to his side now that both of them had abandoned their high-grade. Prowl made an irritated noise, his doorwings flapping once, not liking to waste a treat like high-grade, but recharge was calling for both of them. His free hand fluffed the pillows and furs until their berth was once again a comfortable nest suitable for his doorwings as he lay on his side and nuzzled Sideswipe once before turning his head into a pillow.

Sideswipe had nearly shut down his non-essential systems and had already turned his optics off when he abruptly winced and let them flicker back on.

His spark was uneasy.

…The frustration on their bond was giving way to something else.

Something worse.

_Failure._

The push-and-pull of the relationship between a city-mech and a wildland-mech would always be the norm for them. As much as they tried to respect and listen to one another, they didn’t always succeed. Pit, the fact that they were _bonded_ was a totality of failure on Prowl’s part for not understanding the gravity that Sideswipe saw in the act of bonding and choosing a mate for life so quickly. Once he had realized how much harm he’d actually done Prowl had been more than repentant and had been careful ever since, but the damage was already there. 

When Sideswipe had been recovering from his ordeal and his injuries shortly after arriving in Iacon, he’d heard much of what Prowl had confessed to him while thinking that his mate was comatose. Truthfully, much of it was hazy to Sideswipe; he hadn’t been faking that he could barely move and that his systems were under deep repairs. But he’d been more alert than he’d led Prowl to believe, and now he was certain, more than anything, from both Prowl’s words and what he’d felt through the bond, Prowl would do _anything_ to be able to go back and fix how their bond had started. He wanted to _love_ him, and not have their bond marred by the fact that it had begun by his _failure._

Prowl hated to fail.

And yet, here they were, once again.

Prowl thought that he was failing. He’d waited patiently, no longer pushing Sideswipe along until he’d finally agreed to the idea of having a sparkling, and when at last they were trying...They couldn’t ignite. He thought that it was his own fault, that he’d done something terribly wrong once more. Sideswipe could feel the same dark, oozing sense of disgust with _himself_ leaking through the bond.

Hopefully, considering how much tighter control he had over the bond, Prowl wouldn’t feel his own.

Sideswipe buried it down, and his engine growled as he abruptly leaned up and kissed at Prowl’s chin, startling his mate back into wakefulness.

He felt something else on the bond. Prowl was confused and searching, trying to figure out what he’d missed in just a breem.

Sideswipe smirked to himself as he broadcasted his idea, or rather, how he _felt_ about his idea.

Prowl’s optics widened. “...Are you sure? Again, so soon?”

Sideswipe’s answer was to prop himself up higher so that he could straddle his mate again, and Prowl hurriedly squirmed into a more comfortable position, his systems purring as he quickly decided that it was early enough in the night for his mate’s idea to be a good one.


	3. Split

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohai guys!
> 
> Life is rough right now. If I'm not without a computer, then I'm without a vehicle. Backburn (the car, not the baby mech!) has officially passed on. Looking for a new car is a bear.

Chapter 3: Split

Optimus’s tent was quickly becoming too crowded for this particular meeting, and the weather was fair that orn, so some of the _yoska_ hurriedly assembled a long canopy to be used by tribe members in attendance instead. Optimus dragged over the pillows from his tent and arranged them in a semi-circle for the senior Autobots that he trusted for advice, and everyone else who wanted to attend carried over their own mats and pillows and plopped them down wherever they wanted until everyone could be seated comfortably, the breeze that was drifting through Iacon cooling off their frames while the fluttering canopy shielded them from the sun overhead. The scents of the crystals that had crawled up wildly up the buildings in the downtown area wafted around them as well, reminding them of where they were, of their place in their new home.

Sunstreaker commented to Sideswipe over their bond that the smell of the Minotoron herd would be just as powerful as the crystals if the wind changed, and Prowl had looked over at the twins from his seat beside Optimus when his mate had snickered at seemingly nothing. 

More _yoska_ and other members of the tribe wandered in, and soon enough what cover was available in the shadow of the canopy was used up, and yet still more mechs and femmes scooted in as close as they could, some raising their hoods to give themselves their own personal shade. Space at the front was kept in reserve, though. Optimus had specifically invited Perceptor, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to the meeting, looking for the input of mechs who had lived in cities before, though all of them had already pointed out that Iacon’s dilapidated state was not comparable to Kaon or Tarn. The three of them were seated closest to the center of the semi-circle, where they could easily be addressed. Drift elected to sit with his mate, a wiggly and babbling Backburn held in his arms as demanded entertainment from his surrogate carrier and sire, and Springer was sitting alongside Sunstreaker as well, their shoulders touching as Sunstreaker leaned slightly on his mate.

Jealousy flared and died in Sideswipe’s spark in less than a micro-breem, but it had flashed quickly enough for Prowl to snap his optics to his mate once more, this time with concern. Sideswipe’s answer was to shrug and to adjust how his poncho was laying over his shoulders. 

Prowl had established some time ago that his earned rank as one of Optimus’s advisors did not automatically elevate Sideswipe’s rank as well. Sideswipe was still a _yoska,_ a valued and honored warrior, but he didn’t hold any more authority than any other _yoska._

Sideswipe would have much rathered his mate at his side, just like Sunstreaker’s and Perceptor’s were. Sunstreaker must have felt the flare too, but his answer was just to push himself closer to his mate until Springer got the idea to wrap an arm around his shoulder.

 _/Slag-sucker,/_ Sideswipe spat over the twins’ bond as the two of them snuggled up.

_/You could always crawl up into Prowl’s lap./_

_/...I_ could. _I doubt that I’d be in it for very long./_ The imagery alone improved his mood, a sloppy grin replacing his frown.

In unison a hush fell over the crowd of gathered Autobots, as if they had decided as one that now was the time that Optimus should speak. Optimus sat a little higher...but did not begin.

“Not everyone is here yet,” he explained when some of the _yoska_ began to shift around uncomfortably and mutter.

Sideswipe raised one of his optic ridges.

Who…?

“Sorry we’re late! Here we come!”

All optics turned towards the northeast, towards where part of the ruined city of Iacon disappeared into mountainous walls that formed its natural defense. Several more mechs, smaller than most Autobots, were running across the field towards them, the furs around their shoulders flapping as they went, waving their arms to grab the tribe’s attention.

It wasn’t the first time that Sideswipe had forgotten that he, Sunstreaker and Perceptor were not the only city-mechs in Iacon.

The minibots had embraced their own created sub-culture of the nomads and it was easy to forget that they’d come from Kaon at the same time as Sunstreaker.

Brawn, Bumblebee and Wincharger stumbled up, and there was grumbling and sneering from the gathered Autobots as mechs and femmes shoved and pushed themselves aside to let the three minibots through and towards the center. Once gathered with the other city mechs they plopped themselves down directly between them and Optimus, foregoing the mats and pillows for front-row seats.

 _/Afts./_ Sunstreaker sniffed and raised his head to stare down at them along the ridge of his olfactory sensor.

_/Don’t kick one, Sunny./_

_/Just Brawn?/_

_/Not even Brawn./_

“I trust everything is well?” Optimus asked pointedly at Bumblebee, his face mask hiding the grin in his voice.

“ _Sa.”_ The minibot crossed his legs and shuffled around on his aft to make himself comfortable. “We found a new tunnel, and Cliffjumper wanted to continue exploring. Huffer decided to stay with him.”

Who would have thought, after traveling all the way across the planet to escape the dull prospects of only being able to work in mines in Kaon, and after establishing their own subculture within the Autobots, the minibots would go right back to the skills that they knew best? 

Though that wasn’t completely true, Sideswipe reminded himself. The minibots were shockingly _excellent_ hunters, surprising even the seasoned _yoska._ One minibot was no match for another opponent, but a swarm of them, dressed in turbo-wolf hides and howling like a pack, _that_ was a terrifying adversary to face, and most of the scavengers who preyed about the mountains fled when they heard them coming. For that the _yoska_ had received them well and had made them part of the regular patrol, though were still hesitant to call them _‘yoska’_ like themselves. However, at the discovery of the tunnels underneath the ruins of Iacon, and without Sentinel Prime’s demands for them to dig up new veins of energon every day, the minibots now explored the caves curiously and at their leisure, their frames best suited to do so.

Sideswipe had no idea why Bluestreak was insisting on joining them lately. The mech’s doorwings would get caught on the narrow walls, and he had the grace and balance of a Minotoron nosing through Moonracer’s wares. Even the twins limited their spelunking to the ruins of the downtown area, not the thinner caves where the energon wells sprang from.

“Are you certain that they don’t want to include their voices, now that they speak the same language as us?”

“You want to include Huffer’s voice, Optimus?”

“...It would be fair,” he muttered, ignoring the amused rumble along the rest of the Autobots under the canopy, before clearing his vocalizer and speaking loud enough for all to hear him. “I would like the opinions of all, but especially those from the cities of Cybertron, for our tribe’s future in Iacon.”

That immediately silenced any chuckling. Optimus paused a moment, letting the weight of their discussion sink in for all of them, before continuing.

“I fear of Iacon meeting the same fate as the other cities of Cybertron. Our friends and brothers from the city-” he gestured towards the mechs seated in front of the semi-circle, “have spoken about how the cities have drained most of their energon and will soon be at war with each other in the search for new sources. Iacon has an _abundance_ of energon, untouched for thousands of vorns. But will it always be that way? Will we fall prey to the same vices that caused the other cities to lose their energon veins and wells?”

Deep blue eyes stared down at the city-mechs, waiting for their answer as those who’d seen the lifestyles of both those in the city and those in the wildlands.

Sideswipe’s plating twitched and clamped down. He could _feel_ the optics of the rest of the tribe on him, his brother, and the rest of the city-mechs.

Windcharger was the first to speak up, his gaze directed at Optimus, though he spoke loud enough for everyone to hear him.

“We’ve stabilized each mine we’ve come across, and from where we’ve explored we’ve found that Iacon’s energon vein is in near-perfect health. The same walls that kept out the Decepticons and any other invaders saved the mines from collapsing or from being contaminated. So the vein’s not going to run out anytime soon by itself.”

Perceptor raised his hand. “The reason that the cities are in such a quandry is not because the veins are contaminated, but because they were overused. There are hundreds of thousands more mechs living in one city than in all the tribes of the wildlands combined.”

Jazz snorted. “Ya’ll sure of that?” he asked with a smirk, to which Prowl made an impatient noise with his engine and glowered at his friend sitting next to him, warning him that now was not the time to tease.

“Well, I...a census was never done on the wildlands, I assume...” Perceptor shook his head as he tried to refocus. “In any case, there are thousands, no, _millions_ of mechs and femmes who are using energon flippantly and for trivial means. You have no machines to power, no transports, no firearms...It’s an entirely different world inside a city’s walls, I assure you. This-” he swung one hand out at the ruins of the downtown area beyond the field where the Autobots were camped, “is not a good example of what a city is like today, even if you could imagine all of the mechs and femmes wandering about it in its prime.”

“What should we imagine, then?”

“Think of a fog that never leaves the sky,” Bumblebee said. “Think of that fog being caused by smoke from burning energon daily everywhere in the city. Imagine that it’s so bad that it never leaves, even if everything were to stop for the entire day. It becomes so harsh that it contaminates the rain clouds, and what drops from the sky isn’t rain, it’s _acid._ It can melt right through armor, and injure or kill mechs, and destroy buildings, so the only way to combat it is by using more energy to strengthen the buildings, which burns even _more_ smoke.”

This time all humor on Jazz’s face had melted away. “I’ve hunted by cities before. The rain would be _damaging_ to my clothes and my plating. Is that why?!”

Bumblebee nodded solemnly. 

“So then why do you burn so much energon?” Ratchet leaned forward on his pillow, his hands braced on his knees. “Why does no one in the city stop this and tell the others to stop making so much smoke?”

“That was just an analogy with burning energon. Uh...kind of.” The yellow minibot scratched the side of his helm. “The way it’s used sometimes, mechs may as well be lighting a barrel of it on fire...”

Perceptor continued as Bumblebee trailed off. “The smog is an offset of the energy being extracted and used. Much of what it is used for are meaningless things that the city considers to be _essential,_ or mechanisms that could be improved to be more efficient but few see as worth the expense. It is a dilemma that has persisted in all the cities, not just Kaon and Tarn. They pretend that the vein is inexhaustible; if the energon is used up, more will be mined, because that’s the way that things have always been. But...all the veins are drying up. And instead of _finally_ establishing agreements to not abuse the use of energon, the cities would rather go to war with each other and take what their neighbors have.”

“...Your cities are no better than the Decepticon tribe.”

None of the city-mechs tried to counter Ratchet. Perceptor went silent, his shoulders falling and hanging, reminded of what he’d escaped from. Drift quickly distracted his mate by handing Backburn over to him, taking the opportunity to also put an encouraging arm around him while the sparkling cooed at his adoptive carrier and grasped at the folds of his robe until Perceptor couldn’t help but smile again.

Sideswipe quickly looked away. 

He felt a querying poke from Sunstreaker along the bond, and ignored it.

For Primus’s sake, he’d _recommended_ Perceptor and Drift as surrogates for Backburn. He shouldn’t be acting so stupid about seeing them happy with their adopted sparkling.

Optimus sat up a little straighter. “Then we won’t make their mistakes. I will not allow our home to deteriorate in the same way as the rest of the cities.”

Sideswipe needed to distract himself with the conversation, and Optimus had given him the perfect opener.

“So that’s not deteriorating?” he asked, jabbing a thumb at the downtown area, and for that he earned a few snorted guffaws from the rest of the tribe around him. Optimus’s own chuckle turned into a grunted huff as he tried to ignore the levity. 

“That is not deterioration, that is _destruction._ But in the time that we were away from our home, until the prophecy was fulfilled, Iacon was given time to heal itself and become a paradise.”

Sideswipe couldn’t argue far against that. The Autobots didn’t care much for the collapsed buildings that had become a foundation for the wild crystals and the river of energon flowing through the streets. They saw their paradise for what it was _now._

“So we won’t overuse the energon with machinery that we don’t have.” He gave the Prime a thumbs-up. “Easy.”

Ironhide cleared his vocalizer with a low rumble. “There’s another problem.”

“What’s that?”

“The crystals. As plentiful as they are, they ain’t bein’ given time to reform.”

Bumblebee cocked his head to the side. “Why is that a problem? There’s so many, and the tribe doesn’t really use them--”

“The tribe don’t. The _Minotorons_ do. That’s their main source of fuel. Things are fine now, but if we don’t keep the herd on the move, the crystals ain’t gonna grow back properly. They’ll be too worn down for the Minotorons to eat in a few vorns.”

Perceptor’s optics flicked up from where he’d been paying attention to his cooing sparkling. “That’s right! Your tribe is nomadic because your herd needs fresh crystals to graze on!”

“ _Your_ tribe now too,” Drift quietly reminded him, one finger extended for Backburn to grip and try to tug closer to him.

On Optimus’s right hand side, Prowl abruptly sat back and crossed his arms, his doorwings perking up slightly, his optics flickering in the familiar way that Sideswipe associated with his cortex’s processes whirling at a speed that shouldn’t be capable of most mechs. Sideswipe frowned and stared at his mate, but Prowl didn’t notice him, and didn’t answer the questioning ping along their bond. Sideswipe’s scowl deepened, and he pressed harder, and Prowl’s answer was to flick his doorwings up and down, silently telling him to leave him alone and to let him think.

At the same time, Sunstreaker gave his twin a soft _poke_ on their own bond. Sideswipe startled and turned his way, but if his twin had been trying to get his attention, he didn’t show it.

Sunstreaker suddenly looked just as contemplative as Prowl.

Why was he--

“So what we need to do--” Ironhide was saying, “--is give the Minotorons room to graze. Iacon’s great, but it’s for _us,_ not for them. There’s plenty o’ room at the foot of Luna-1. We could set up a permanent camp there.”

There was a beat of a pause.

And then Ratchet and Red Alert _flipped._

“Are you out of your cortex, Ironhide--?!”

“That’s absurd!”

“Have we fought for this city for nothing?!”

“Would you put us all in danger _now,_ after we lost so many in the fight to fulfill the prophecy?!”

Sideswipe winced at the last one. Ouch.

Once again, a tentative prod from Sunstreaker. Again, he ignored it, other than to send a short, curt pulse back at him, telling his twin that he was fine.

Prowl’s doorwings flicked once more, having received the same pulse that his mate had sent to his twin, and this time he glared at Sideswipe before turning away again. _Irritation_ rumbled through their bond.

 _/Sorry,/_ Sideswipe sent directly to his mate. _/What’s up? You’ve got an idea?/_

Prowl’s shoulders subtly moved up and down indecisively. The only one who picked up on the gesture was Jazz, and he was more interested in the shouting match between Ratchet, Red Alert, and Ironhide. 

“The Decepticons know _exactly_ where we are! We need to remain behind these walls, where we will be safe!”

“Didn’t ya’ll see what remained of them ‘Cons afterwards?! They’ve been broken! Not only that, their territory is _way_ far south of here, an’ they don’t have the resources to attack us like that again! They won’t for vorns!”

“Yes, and what happens in those vorns from now?!” Ratchet spat back. “Are we supposed to ignore the Decepticons and pretend that Megatron will have forgotten how we humiliated him?! He will eventually return, and we need to be behind the safety of Iacon’s walls!”

...The safety of the walls…?

A horrifying thought threw itself to the forefront of Sideswipe’s cortex. His blossoming realization must have been felt by both his twin and his mate because both of them were turning their heads his way right before he’d thrown up his hand and waved it back and forth, snatching the attention of all the Autobots around and behind him.

“Hey! _Hey!_ Uh…”

The senior Autobots cut themselves off and stared at him. Sideswipe drew himself up a little higher, making sure that everyone would hear his warning. 

“You’ve all lived in relatively open spaces up until now, and even where we’ve chosen to camp in _Iacon_ is in a field to one side of the actual city-space. Here’s the thing. _You guys have never experienced a siege.”_ Sideswipe grimaced. “You have no idea what that would be like. Imagine that the Decepticons posted themselves outside the gate and would not let anyone in or out of the city. What would you do? We wouldn’t be able to trade with anyone, let alone call for help. Our city would become our own trap.”

“We have a healthy vein of energon flowing through the city,” Ratchet grumbled. “We wouldn’t starve.”

“But we wouldn’t be doing well either. The Minotorons can only provide so much, and you trade the excess to other tribes for things you can’t make or _steal_ for yourselves, right? Imagine if that was taken away. We’d only have whatever we could make here in Iacon.”

Red Alert sneered at him. “We would be _safe.”_

“Hopefully. But for how long? Are we going to be _constantly_ stocked up on everything we need in case of an attack? What about the Minotorons? We can’t keep the herd within Iacon and hope that if the Decepticons attack it won’t be a time when the crystals that the herd can reach are running short. And if the gates are the only way in and out of the city, how would we drive them back? We can’t climb our own walls to sneak out!”

“Sideswipe’s right about the herd,” Ironhide cut off Red Alert’s retort. “We can’t pretend that the crystals in Iacon will last us forever. We _need_ to let ‘em move an’ graze. It’s how it’s always been. It’s who we are.”

“Who we _are?!”_ Red Alert threw up his hands. “We’re the Autobots of Iacon, and we’ve returned to our home at last! We can’t just leave it now!”

“Then what’ll ya’ll suggest, Red?! That we let our herd starve?!”

“Better than suggesting that we abandon Iacon once more and leave ourselves open to Decepticon attack!”

Sideswipe put a hand down in front of him for balance as he shifted up onto his knees, raising his head higher than his brother’s and the rest of the mechs around him. “ _Na,_ that’s not what I’m saying! What I mean is that we need a way to remain flexible and fight back!”

There were more voices from behind him adding themselves to either side of the argument, some mumbling and contemplative, some fierce and heartfelt. No one was in agreement, and Sideswipe heard one femme defending his idea while another one swore at him. Red Alert’s searing blue optics were only on Sideswipe though, not the other Autobots under the canopy.

“You would have us return to the wildlands?! You, who helped us to fulfill the prophecy and leave our best grazing fields?!”

Both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s engines growled. Sideswipe started to climb the rest of the way to his feet, and he heard Sunstreaker shoving off of Springer. “You piece of--”

“ _ENOUGH!!”_

The mech’s sole voice seemed to rattle through everyone’s frames and shut down their vocalizers. Instantly Sideswipe felt that he’d come under the scrutiny of one of his teachers from back when he was in the Academy, not instead under the glare of Optimus Prime. The mech’s entire being _demanded_ respect when he finally called for it, and as silence washed and crashed over the group, Sideswipe slowly retreated back down to his seat, though his engine kept hissing and his spark felt like it was angrily scrambling all over his spark chamber.

The echo of their leader’s yell in everyone’s audials kept the group quiet, aside from the odd and uncomfortable shuffling.

Optimus tended to let his advisors argue with each other right in front of him, wanting to hear all sides candidly. He would try to be patient, but he did have a limit, along with certain buttons that would set him off. A sudden growl from their Prime was rare enough to shock the tribe into submission.

It was little wonder now why the tribe had been so astounded at Optimus’s sudden and outward hatred when he’d first met Sideswipe and been told that he was carrying the Iacon prophecy, though that wound had long since healed.

Optimus took a long, bracing ventilation before speaking again, his voice grave and rumbling. “The tribe is nowhere near in danger of starvation or attack. We are considering our _future._ And while I encourage all voices to be heard, I will _not_ have my _yoska_ fighting one another when they could be fighting the enemy. Is that understood?”

Red Alert and Sideswipe glanced at each other, then both muttered “ _Sa,”_ though with only partially sincerity from Red Alert, and none from Sideswipe.

He’d just figured out what he was going to do with those nutrients Ratchet had wanted him to take.

The silence gave an opportunity for Prowl to raise his hand, his doorwings lifting up at the same time.

With no competition to him, and with a distraction from the fight that had nearly broken out welcome, Optimus nodded to him. “You have an plan?”

“ _Sa._ The arguments for and against leaving Iacon are both valid. I would suggest...that we do both.”

“...”

The mechs and femmes sitting behind Sideswipe buzzed and chattered in low voices, perplexed. Ironhide grunted, Ratchet scowled, and Jazz cocked his head to the side.

“Whatcha mean, Prowl?” the visored mech asked.

“The nearest side of Luna-1 is only a couple orns of a walk away from Iacon when herding Minotorons, and much shorter if run,” he explained. “That’s not a terribly significant distance, and there are plenty of crystals at the base of the Luna-1 for the herd to be rotated all along the fields until they’ve had time to regrow.”

“But we’ll have to leave Iacon--”

“We won’t.” Prowl gave his friend a hard look. “Because not all of us will join the herding camp.”

Jazz raised his head higher. The light behind his visor glowed a little brighter as understanding dawned on him.

There was a ripple of unease in the crowd. Sensing it, and alarmed that the shouting would begin again, Sideswipe pulsed _encouragement_ to his mate, and Prowl immediately started again before the voices could interrupt him.

“The herding camp would oversee the Minotorons and stay on the move as they graze, and return to the lifestyle that we all are familiar with. If the _yoska_ guard the nearest mountain pass, which would also act as a bottleneck for any enemy attack, they can warn the herding camp of any approaching danger and have them rush back to Iacon. Others could escape into the mountains and hide in the caves, and lie in wait to attack the sides and the rear of enemies who would attempt to siege Iacon.”

Sideswipe considered such a move in his cortex, his battle programing switching on.

That...actually made sense.

A siege anticipated starving the defenders in their own holdout until they were too weak to fight back. An allied force swooping in from the flanks and rear would draw the enemy’s attention to all sides, giving the defenders time to charge out of their own gates and join the fight on their terms.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked it. As Sideswipe looked around, he noted that many of the Autobots who were about to argue with Prowl were now deliberating this, and some had changed their minds.

Sunstreaker, however, wouldn’t meet his optics. He looked to be just as deep in thought as everyone else, though the same sense of _anxiety_ was leaking into their bond and making Sideswipe nervous as well.

 _/You don’t think it will work?/_ Sideswipe asked him.

_/...No, it’s sound. I just--/_

_/What?/_

_/Nevermind./_ Sunstreaker huffed, then leaned his head on Springer’s shoulder. _/Just thinking about slag./_

_/Which slag?/_

Both of their attentions were drawn back to Prowl before Sunstreaker could answer.

“--And those who would stay behind in Iacon would turn the city into a well-fortified base.” This was said pointedly to Red Alert, and then, surprisingly, directed at Perceptor as Prowl swung his optics towards the city-mechs and minicons. “There is plenty of work to be done inside of Iacon as well. There are ruins to explore, wells to stabilize.”

“...It is statistically safer for our youngest tribe members as well,” the former scientist murmured as he lightly bounced Backburn, the sparkling squeaking happily up at him. “I’ve been dabbling with the idea of moving the artifacts that we’ve recovered into one of the Iaconian structures instead of a tent--”

“ _Na,_ I’ve been insisting on this,” Drift retorted next to him.

Several of the Autobots laughed. Sideswipe smirked.

The incident of Perceptor catching part of his tent on fire when conducting an experiment on items from the ruins hadn’t been forgotten by anyone, especially not Drift. Perceptor was a genius, but the common sense about lighting up the rusted dust collected from the tunnels under Iacon had eluded him until the heated particles had floated up and caught on the tent’s fabric.

“ _Well.”_ Perceptor made a face at his imp-faced mate. “Since we’re in agreement--”

“Hold on.” Ratchet had raised his hand, and Ironhide looked troubled too, though Red Alert had put his chin in his palm when Prowl had mentioned ‘a well-fortified base’ and was deep in his own world. “This would require us to split up the tribe. I don’t like it.”

“Neither do I,” Ironhide agreed, then rumbled when Ratchet raised an optic ridge at him. “What?”

“A breem ago you were trying to tell us that we should leave Iacon!”

“I ain’t never meant _abandoning_ it, you ding-wattage. I meant that we couldn’t stay behind the walls and let the Minotorons eat all the crystals in one vorn!”

“Not to mention the sewage they’d leave from being confined to one area for so long,” Optimus murmured, his nose ridge wrinkling.

“It _is_ a split, but we won’t be far from each other,” Prowl interjected, raising his vocalizer slightly to be heard above the growing number of mechs and femmes talking amongst themselves as they discussed the plausibility of his idea. He held his hands apart, a palm at either Ratchet or Ironhide, begging them not to interrupt him. “To move the entire tribe away from Iacon would be insane and disgrace those who didn’t live long enough to see our tribe return home. But to keep everyone behind the walls would be to eventually doom us. We are no longer like other wildland tribes, and we must change accordingly.”

“We’ve also gotta think of tradin’,” Jazz added. “We’re far from the rest of the tribes that were our allies. Havin’ an outpost between them an’ the city would make my job a slagload easier.”

The two oldest members of Optimus’s advisors still did not look convinced. But neither did they try to argue with him further, instead sitting back and crossing their arms, mulling over how such a thing could be done.

The crowd was getting louder. Sideswipe looked over both of his shoulders to see all of them, and burst _pride_ towards his mate, and recieved a sense of _satisfaction_ and _accomplishment_ shortly after.

Primus Almighty, Prowl had sorely needed that boost in morale.

Optimus appeared to be just as gratified as Prowl with how the idea had been received by the tribe. “A wise plan,” he said to the white mech. “One that still needs further discussion amongst _all_ the voices in the tribe before I make a decision, but I do like it.”

Prowl bowed his head respectfully. 

Sideswipe’s smile grew wider and sly.

His mate was one Pit of a fragger.

 _/Uh-huh, I can_ feel _how elated you are, Prowl. Don’t fragging try to hide it./_

 _Humor_ and _love_ were lobbed back at him, playfully bouncing down their bond where no one else could see them, and Sideswipe’s spark spun and danced gleefully.

...But just for a breem.

 _Anxiety_ was still being pulsed to him as well. Sideswipe’s grin died as he turned to look at his brother, who was still leaning on Springer, despite the other tribe members around them getting up now that the ‘meeting’ had ended. Springer had sensed his mate’s disquiet even without being bonded to him and was rubbing his arm.

“Okay.” Sideswipe switched to speaking aloud in Standard and narrowed his optics at Sunstreaker. “What’s up? What’s got your protoform in a twist?”

Springer wrinkled his nose, having never learned Standard since his mate could now speak Iaconian just fine. Sunstreaker’s response to his twin was just to huff at him again.

“It doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Then what does it have to do with?” Sideswipe poked him both in reality and over their bond, and in both universes he was swatted. “C’mon, Sunny. Maybe I can help.”

He didn’t miss that Sunstreaker’s optics flicked to where Prowl was speaking to Jazz before returning to his twin’s matching blue ones.

“I was thinking about the sparkling you two are trying to create.”

Sideswipe tried to hide his flinch, but wasn’t able to stop it in time. “Why?”

And then he flinched harder as Sunstreaker threw a barrier down on their bond and pushed himself further up against Springer, who quickly understood what was being asked of him stood up to leave with his mate, despite the baffled look that Sideswipe was giving them as they turned away.


	4. Element

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I may share the greatest summary of the last chapter by TopJoy:
> 
> _"My favourite thing about this is just like, "hey, we did it! A whole city! Energon for everyone! It's great!" and then a hush fell over the crowd as, quietly, Ironhide mutters, "but what are we going to do about the cows." And it all immediately falls apart. Cows 1, autobots 0"_
> 
> I laughed for almost ten minutes straight, thank you so much!!

Chapter 4: Element

Black fingers clasped tightly around white, and that was all that Sideswipe knew of reality.

His focus, his _essence_ was concentrated on the blend of his spark with his mate’s, the two of the rolling around one another, becoming one, become _I,_ and then in that critical moment they fought again to light the fuse and _ignite._

_C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…_

If he could reach out into the dark space where he saw both their sparks become one, he would have cupped and cradled the little ball of _everything_ that was growing between them. On its other side Prowl was doing the same, nurturing it, molding it, encouraging it to grow into something more than just a phenomenon of their spark-merge, something that could hold together on its own will.

Sideswipe’s spark clung to Prowl’s until it was painful for him to keep doing so, and Prowl was doing the same to him, tendrils of light wrapping and dancing around one another, usually pleasurable, but when forced to drag out this long it was hurting both of them. Yet they both stubbornly hung on, trying with all their might--

The ball was breaking apart even as Sideswipe’s spark finally reeled back, spinning slowly and mournfully at the bottom of its chamber as his mate’s spark tried so hard to keep the little ball formed long enough for it to ignite, but their effort was in vain.

What could have been a new life crumbled, faded, and became part of their bond once more.

The two sparks stayed in their own chambers, quiet and sullen, despite being close enough for each other to touch.

When Sideswipe felt his black hand clench down on Prowl’s white one, it took his mate far too long for him to answer and squeeze back.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The two-story building that Perceptor had thoroughly inspected and decided was safe enough to be habitable was on the other side of an energon stream bubbling up from a well to one side of Iacon, the small river finding an easy path down the street of the city, the curbs controlling it as well as if it had been created specifically for it. It wasn’t swift, but it did come up to most mech’s knees, so Sideswipe and Prowl needed to cross a zig-zagging bridge of broken wall paneling in order to get to the other side, their arms outstretched to the left and right to help to keep their balance.

“I’ll have to ask Ironhide and several other _yoska_ about building something more permanent and sturdy,” Prowl muttered when stepped down onto the far side safely and frowned behind him at the makeshift bridge.

“You do that.” Sideswipe cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted up at the second-story window. “YO!! Perceptor, you home?!”

A second later the scientist poked his head out, leaning out against a structure that had been bleached white after vorns of disuse under the sun.

“Yes! Come inside, I’ll be down in just a moment!”

There was no door on the building, just a long piece of fabric meant to keep out the elements. Sideswipe held it aside for Prowl as they stepped in, their blue optics adjusting for the dimmer light, though it was not illuminated by just torches…

“Wow, Perceptor, you got some overhead lights going!”

“I found enough materials to convert the batteries that you and Sunstreaker collected to accept solar power.” The clap of Perceptor’s feet on the stairs was too loud for such a lightly-armored mech, and Sideswipe had to wonder how secure the steps really were, but Perceptor didn’t seem to mind as he scurried down to the ground floor and headed over to them. “It’s a small but constant drain even if I turn them off when the room is not in use, so I would rather have an alternate source of energy than energon conversion from the river outside.”

“You could get a water-wheel turning and converting the energy from _that_ into the battery,” Sideswipe snickered, but immediately stopped when Perceptor paused and considered him. “Kidding, I’m kidding! Primus Almighty, Perceptor, please don’t do that.”

“...But I could have a pipline run through the wall here and to the river, and it would be a simple matter to hook up the--”

“No, no, no, _no.”_

“It would be free, clean energy!” The smaller mech looked far too excited now. “In fact, if I could set up several miniature wheels further up the river, I could have a near-constant charge of batteries--”

“Oh for Pit’s sake.” 

Prowl, meanwhile, was infatuated with the laboratory that Perceptor had been setting up since he’d found the building and declared it to be perfect for his means. Several burners were online, their fires small and easy to control, and Prowl, just a worried about an unchecked fire as any other nomad, kept a sharp optic on them and the beakers of fluid that were in differing states of bubbling and boiling to sitting tepidly despite the application of heat. Devices from the ruins were scattered about on different benchs and tables, some online, most not, and the ones that were somehow holding a charge were clicking and whirring under the strain of millions of vorns of disuse. Even the overhead lights were suspicious, and though they were not as harsh as the sun outside Prowl had quickly learned not to stare directly at them.

_Unease_ ebbed through their bond, as it always did when too much of the city’s unexplained ‘magics’ were presented to him. Sideswipe pulsed gently and soothingly at his mate as he stepped closer to him, letting some _humor_ drift in to remind him that there was nothing here that Sideswipe considered shockingly unusual or dangerous, until Prowl huffed and twitched his doorwings irritably, too uncomfortable with any of the experiments to get too close.

A gurgling coo caught both of their attentions, and their heads snapped to the far side of the room.

“...You let your sparkling stay in here with all these _things?!”_ Prowl squawked.

“Well, yes! _Sa!”_ Perceptor nodded towards the ‘playpen’ set up in one corner of the room, barricaded off from everything else against a sparkling who was learning to crawl. Backburn was working his tiny dentals on a toy one of the other _yoska_ had given him, blue optics flitting from his surrogate carrier to the new mechs in the room to the most colorful of the beakers, his vocalizer making the quiet, happy chirrups of a contented new-spark. “He gets upset when I’m out of his eyesight, and he’s in no danger of a spillage or smoke or--”

“You could leave him with another Autobot while you are here!!”

Perceptor frowned at the white mech. “Prowl, I _assure_ you, Backburn is quite content to watch me work. He’s a bright young mech! The cortex of a scientist, I believe. He’ll be brilliant one day!”

Backburn’s legs kicked at the blanket he was laying on and he snorted a giggle around his toy when one of the beakers hissed and nearly boiled over, the liquid saved by Perceptor scrambling to turn the burner off.

“A-And now we know the saturation point of that one!”

_Ire_ poked at Sideswipe’s spark from somewhere that was not within himself. He took the moment of Perceptor fussing over the beaker reach over and squeeze Prowl’s hand.

_/He’s fine. Perceptor loves the little rugrat. He won’t have him in here if he thought that anything could hurt him./_

Prowl wrinkled his nose, clearly disagreeing. 

_/...Or is it that you really don’t like city-mech technology around a sparkling?/_

“Perceptor, we came to ask you if you had any other ideas for Sideswipe and I that Ratchet hasn’t yet addressed,” Prowl said, completely ignoring his mate’s prodding. “We’ve tried every recommendation that our tribe has to offer to allow us to…”

He trailed off, his doorwings lowering. But Perceptor got the message well enough, and the his demeanor changed from that of an excited scientist in his element to that of a mech who understood that two of his friends were in pain.

Sideswipe had come to understand that the Autobots viewed talking about igniting a sparkling with far less taboo than city-mechs, but that didn’t make the conversation any less awkward and saddening.

The burner was adjusted so that the beaker wouldn’t boil over, and then Perceptor walked back over, his voice far less energetic now. “I wish I could give you a better recommendation from medical science. But...I don’t have the equipment here to begin to make a diagnosis. You would need to return to the city for treatment by a qualified medic--”

“ _Na,”_ Prowl said immediately. “We’re not doing that.”

“I understand, Prowl, I understand. But without that equipment...I cannot tell you _why_ you have been unable to ignite, let alone recommend a proper treatment.”

Sideswipe felt the white fingers in his palm tighten. 

“Could it have something to do with Iacon’s energon?” he asked, his spark twisting as he felt Prowl’s ebb in _disappointment._ You said that it was different than what was coming from wells in the cities and the rest of the wildlands?”

“Yes, but...didn’t you two begin trying for a sparkling before we switched to using Iacon’s well?”

Sideswipe shrugged. “I was under deep repairs for a long time. Maybe somebody gave me Iacon’s energon so that I wouldn’t burn through our rations.”

“I would have noticed--” Prowl scowled.

“Well...it’s not that the well is unsustainable. It’s that it’s energon is missing several elements that _should_ be present in most energon.”

Brought back to a topic that he’d been studying for the past deca-cycles, some life returned to Perceptor as he gestured towards the multitudes of experiments set up along the tables.

“They’re just trace elements really, things that do not immediately contribute to energon conversion, but they’ve been in nearly all samples taken from different veins across energon in both the cities and wildlands. Iacon, however, is without these elements. It may be that it’s vein does not run through the same core as the other veins, or perhaps the terrain acts as a secondary filtration system--”

Sideswipe’s optics widened considerably.

“Wait wait wait. Hold up.” He held up both of his hands. “The energon that the tribe’s been refueling from, you’re saying there’s scrap missing from it?!”

“I wouldn’t say that it’s _scrap,_ but yes, certain elements are not making an appearance as they would anywhere else on Cybertron.”

“Wouldn’t that make Iacon’s energon, like, _poisonous_ or something?!”

“Oh Primus, no. Everyone has been converting the fuel into energy perfectly well, and I have yet to replicate any ill effects of the conversion in the lab.”

Prowl and Sideswipe came to the same conclusion at the same time, and glanced at each other.

“...Perceptor. This is the same fuel that we’re giving to our _younglings.”_

That gave Perceptor a reason to pause. He turned back towards the ‘playpen,’ and three sets of optics observed Backburn babbling to himself as he gummed his dentals around his toy, tiny fingers gripping hard into the felt material.

Sparklings were given the low-grade mix that Minotorons calves nursed from their carriers, and the Minotorons created it from processing the crystals that they ate, and the crystals grew by drawing up energon from the nearby veins…

“And whatever’s in it, our sparklings are getting it too.”

“It’s not that they’re getting an extra ingredient that would harm their systems! It’s...something’s missing.” Still, Perceptor walked over to the playpen and scooped Backburn up, as if guarding him from an invisible threat. “I don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s not doing us any harm.”

“Not that you’ve found so far.”

“...Not that I’ve found so far.”

Bright blue optics smiled up at Perceptor as Backburn pedaled his legs happily, his own waist-cloth fluttering as he did, but the sight of the happy sparkling was doing nothing to ease Sideswipe’s spark.

Suddenly his problems igniting with Prowl seemed so trivial. After all they’d been through, all the enemies they’d fought, the greatest threat to the Autobot tribe may be coming from their own fuel, if Perceptor was wrong.

And yet--

Prowl said it before Sideswipe. “Perhaps that missing element is what’s stopping us from igniting?”

“I highly doubt it, but determining what those missing elements are has been the focus of my experiments for the past several days.” Perceptor adjusted his hold on his sparkling so that Backburn could sit up more easily. “I will keep you abreast of anything I find.”

“Thanks.”

“I wish we could stay closer to Iacon, and your lab. But most of this isn’t mobile, is it?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It felt like he was chasing one of the rations pellets around a bowl with his mouth. The more he tried, the further away it got, making him more and more frustrated until it was less about searching for pleasure and more about getting the slagging chore over with.

Immediately he mentally scolded himself.

Kissing his mate was supposed to be _enjoyable._ He’d introduced Prowl to this, how city-mechs showed affection and pleasure to one another. He’d gotten Prowl to not only like this, but seek out kisses from him often.

This wasn’t supposed to be a chore.

Sideswipe tried to renew his efforts, to put more feeling behind each touch of their lips and each press of his fingers against his mate’s plating, but the moment had passed by them. Prowl’s own mouth had slowed down, then stopped responding, and even as Sideswipe whined and nibbled at his lips he put a hand on the red mech’s chestplate.

“Stop. Stop, you’re obviously not in the mood for this.”

“Nngh. I _want_ to be in the mood for this,” Sideswipe growled down at him, wiggling his hips slightly from where he was situated straddling his mate. “Just give me a few more breems, _sa?”_

“ _Na._ How can I enjoy this if you cannot?”

“I _can!”_

“Sideswipe.”

“What?!”

Instantly he regretted snarling down at his mate, and bit his lower lip as he huffed air out of his vents in an effort to quickly calm himself down, but the damage had been done. Prowl’s optics narrowed tightly, and in the next instant he was pushing much harder at him.

“Let me up.”

Sideswipe immediately complied, hissing a swear at himself as he rolled over on their berth to give Prowl room to sit up. To Prowl’s credit he didn’t storm out of the tent, and reached over to gently rub at Sideswipe’s audial horns to help to settle him, but it was clear that the tonight’s attempt for ignition was over.

The red mech gritted his teeth, even at the nice feeling of his mate’s fingertip massaging his helm.

Primus fraggit all.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So, I just wanted to be sure that you were coming with us.”

Sunstreaker snorted at his twin and kept his optics on the cloth in his hands that he was mending, taking advantage of the fair weather to do his work seated outside his and Springer’s tent. “Of course I am,” he grumbled as he pulled the thread through. “What do you take me for?”

“The slagger who’s barely said a word to me since Optimus decided to split the tribe.” Sideswipe squatted down in front of his twin and glared at him, rumbling in aggravation across their bond, but Sunstreaker still refused to look up. “C’mon, Sunny. What’d I do? If you want to beat the slag out of me, just say so, or _do it._ Don’t leave me hanging like this.”

A horrifying thought flashed through his mind. What if Springer wanted to stay? What if Sunstreaker was in the middle of choosing between his twin and his mate?!

Somehow _that_ got through their bond, or Sunstreaker knew his brother well enough to understand what he was fearing. “You haven’t done anything but be your regular stupid self,” he said flatly. “I feel bad for you and Prowl, okay?!”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Liar.”

Sunstreaker tugged the thread through the line with more force than was necessary, the fabric creaking in protest as he did. “Look, I’m trying to figure out what’s wrong with you two and why you’re not getting a sparkling out of all those mergers. And...maybe that gets me thinking about why I _lost_ one, okay?! Maybe I don’t want to think about it anymore, but you two keep reminding me, and I keep trying to figure it out, and then I keep thinking that you’re not getting as far as I did when I wasn’t trying…”

His voice trailed off, and Sideswipe’s spark sank down to the bottom of its casing at the _pain_ ebbing through their bond, completely unlike that which was coupled with Sideswipe’s frustration over his own failures.

“...You think that...even if we successfully ignite…”

“Something fragged up mine. Maybe the same problem with me is happening with you.”

He stopped what he was doing, and ventilated in and out as he looked up at the sky. The upper winds were moving the clouds swiftly from one end of the mountainous walls encircling Iacon to the other.

“Maybe it’s worth it for you to not feel what it was like.”

“Sunny, that’s a load of--”

“I felt it _deactivate,_ Sideswipe! Do you really want your own spark to go through that?! To feel a new life sitting in your spark chamber, and then it’s--”

Sunstreaker shut off his vocalizer, the sound pitching down to a whine, his faceplates scrunching up tightly, his optics squeezing shut. At the new wave of _hurt_ redoubling across the bond, Sideswipe shoved his way forward, knocking the fabric out of his twin’s hands and hugging him tightly.

“I’m sorry, bro. I’m sorry.” He meant it, and told him in a form even better than words across their sparks, though Sunstreaker’s end had narrowed down to a thin stripe. “I appreciate that you’re trying to think of a _why_ we’re failing to ignite, I really do.”

Sunstreaker’s face pressed itself into his shoulder. Golden arms wrapped around Sideswipe, mimicking the hug, though it was much, much tighter. His vocalizer clicked back online. “Sideswipe, it _sucked._ I don’t want anyone to have to go through that, _especially_ you. It’s not worth _anything.”_

...Anything, huh?

That’s where Sideswipe’s thinking differentiated from Sunstreaker’s.

Even if he had to go through the same agony and despair, even if he had nothing to show for it in the end…

He had a very good reason to keep trying.

Black fingers dug into golden armor.

“Sunny...I can’t give up. We’re so _close._ It’s just that one last fragging step that’s killing us.” With one last squeeze he drew back far enough to look Sunstreaker in the optics, and to also hold up his hand between them, cupping it as if it were a ball. “Me and Prowl...We make something each time. It’s tangible, it’s _there._ I feel like I could reach my hand across the bond, pick it up and cradle it. And then, just before it can begin to spin and become it’s own spark…”

He wobbled his fingers as he dropped his hand.

“It vanishes.”

Sunstreaker stared down at his black hand.

“...You don’t feel yourself twisting it into--”

“Nope. I’m doing everything I can to keep it together, everything within me all the way down to the core of my spark. I swear to you, I _want_ this. I want this more badly than I want anything on Cybertron, Sunny. I do everything I can to hold it together, and so does Prowl. But it just won’t _stick.”_

The twins sat in silence for a long while, the fabric fluttering beside Sunstreaker’s hip, forgotten, both of their optics staying on Sideswipe’s dropped fingers.

And as one-- 

They both came to the same conclusion.

The same terrible, indomitable conclusion.

“...It’s us.”

They had no idea who had said it first, only that their thought was born in both their cortexes at the same time, shared, and confirmed, and as one being they both raised their heads towards each other. Sideswipe felt his fuel pump double-time, and he knew that Sunstreaker’s was doing the same.

Sunstreaker gulped hard. Then touched his brother’s chestplate.

“You can’t ignite because of _us.”_

“You failed because of _us.”_

Synching was usually supposed to be freeing, liberating, their sparks acting as the singular being they they’d always meant to be, a being with two bodies, two sets of everything, dancing in perfect tempo with each other even when the dance was combat in a battle. It was something they’d learned to do long ago in the Pits, back when they didn’t have a single credit to rub between them and were left with the option to either deactivate from starvation or deactivate while fighting. They’d chosen the later, and learned to survive, until they could eventually escape and make their lives into something more worthwhile.

Long before Alpha Trion had found them and redefined “worthwhile” for them.

“You can’t ignite with Prowl...because you’re not working with your entire spark.” Sunstreaker’s voice had dulled. “We each hold our halves of a spark. You’re giving Prowl everything in your merges...and it’s still only half.”

_Anger_ and _frustration_ surged from Sideswipe’s core, his spark, his slagging _half-spark._ “We are twins, but we are still individuals, Sunny! If I had only half a spark, I couldn’t power a frame--”

“You have enough to maintain _you,_ but not enought to build another one!”

This couldn’t have all been in vain.

It couldn’t.

All that hard work, all those long nights, all that time he’d spent cuddling with Prowl after yet another unsuccessful attempt at igniting…

It was _not_ all in vain!

“What about you, you got to ignite! You had _something!”_

Sunstreaker snatched him mended fabric and climbed to his feet with a heavy grunt of effort, suddenly far more exhausted than he had been five breems ago. “It was nothing more than a fluke! My spark thought it was an intruder, and it--”

“It was there, Sunny! You have half of a spark too, and you got something! It...it didn’t stick. But you _had_ it!” Sideswipe shook his helm. “I dunno, maybe you pulled something out through the All Spark…”

The All Spark.

As one, synched, they froze.

All that had happened in the past vorn related to the Iacon prophecy. Sideswipe had been temporarily linked to the Matrix, but the twins had _always_ had a strong relationship with the All Spark, at least stronger than most, as they found themselves existing both in reality and upon their bond between their two sparks, their _singular_ spark split into two halves that spun around each other infinitely and pretended that they were two different mechs.

No. They didn’t pretend.

They were individuals as much as they were of the same spark.

...Then how had Sunstreaker somehow ignited when he didn’t even _want_ a sparkling while Sideswipe tried and tried and had nothing to show for it?!

A pulse hit Sideswipe’s spark, hard.

A single, hard jolt of a pulse.

It couldn’t have come from Prowl. Prowl didn’t have that much control over their bond. It had to have come from Sunstreaker.

But why?

Why, after such a hard push...Why didn’t Sunstreaker look angry?

The look in his twin’s optics was that like when he was walking through Kaon and would suddenly drag Sideswipe to a halt so that he could admire the shape of a structure, or the colors reflected throughout the street. The same look when he’d be scribbling on a sketchpad, freeze, and then stampede back to his room to snatch up a proper canvas.

_Inspiration._

Sideswipe rose to his feet as well. “...Sunny?”

“I forgot.” Sunstreaker’s vocalizer hit a garble of static as he cleared it. “W-we both forgot. That night. The night that I got--”

“What?!” Sideswipe started to follow Sunstreaker as his twin retreated back into his own tent. “ _What?!_ Sunny, tell me!”

The flap slipped down in front of his face at the same time as he felt a wall snap down over their bond, cutting him off from the wave of _pain_ crashing against it, bringing him to a tighter halt than if it had been a door that was slammed and locked.

He nearly shoved his way in anyway, but then stopped himself.

Whatever it was that he’d forgotten...it was making Sunstreaker recall the sparkling that he had lost.

And Sideswipe couldn’t bring himself to take another step forward to harm his brother further.


	5. Foster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 7,700 words?! One might think that this chapter is important or something.

Chapter 5: Foster

Iacon’s location in the mountains of northern Cybertron was the first factor for the oddly cold nights, compared to where the Autobot tribe’s territory used to be. The high walls surrounding the city always hid the early sunrise and late sunset, even when the sky was still bright orange and streams of light that stretched to reach over the peaks tried and failed to sneak their way towards the camp, and thus it always seemed to be markedly colder long before the true sunset happened. The thickly-furred Minotorons didn’t mind this at all, but the Autobots watching over the herd pulled their ponchos and cloaks a little closer to themselves whenever the stars came out, until they retreated for the dawn the next morning.

Because of the cold at this time of the evening, Prowl had taken to wearing a poncho like many of the other Autobots, holes cut in the back for his doorwings, though he still kept his sash around one shoulder that marked him as one of the leaders of the tribe. Sideswipe found his mate tucking his arms underneath the poncho’s folds as he walked back from where the Minotoron herd was being corralled and prepped for the journey out of Iacon.

“What’s bothering you?” Prowl asked as a greeting as soon as Sideswipe raised his hand to wave at him. The smile that Sideswipe had painted onto his face dropped.

“Nothing. Just, uh--”

“Something has changed. Sideswipe, I’m not as good as reading our bond as you, but--”

But he _knew._

Fraggit all. Prowl had been working hard at catching up at the twins’ level of proficiency with their bond, even if he’d never reach it. He had yet to repeat being able to ‘speak’ over their bond except once in a panic, when Sideswipe had tried to block himself from being found as the Decepticons dragged him away. Instead he tended to quietly ‘sit’ on their bond, listening, feeling, and _understanding._ Sideswipe sometimes had woken up in the night to the sense that he was being watched, and then he’d grumble and nuzzle Prowl and tell him that he no longer had to stand guard for the nightmares that had plagued him up until they’d reached Iacon.

It was getting harder for him to hide from his mate what his spark was feeling.

White fingers wrapped around black as they began to walk back to their tent together, the long shadows in front of them melting away into the dusk, their path slaloming left and right through the crystal patches and debris of the fallen city this far out into the field. The dying light from the sunset made the footing treacherous, and they walked slowly. “I spoke with my brother,” Sideswipe finally said.

Prowl’s hand squeezed his own. “And?”

“Sunstreaker thinks that he knows why we haven’t been able to ignite.”

“He thinks that it has something to do with the Iacon prophecy?”

Sideswipe lifted an optic ridge at his mate. “No, that’s not...What? _Prowl._ C’mon, mech. The Iacon prophecy has been fulfilled. It doesn’t have to do with _anything_ or _anybody_ anymore.”

“What I meant was why Alpha Trion choose you two to fulfill the prophecy. Something about it is making it difficult for you to ignite.”

“You’re talking about my link to the All Spark.”

Prowl took a long stride to cross over an energon stream cutting through the ground, and he kept his hand clutched around Sideswipe’s as the bigger mech followed him. “ _Sa.”_

“You’d think that the link would be a boon to our ability to ignite, not a restraint against it.” Sideswipe curled his lips back. “It’s not fair.”

“So it’s true, then.” Prowl’s footsteps slowed. “I was hoping that my calculations were wrong.”

“What’s true?” At the same time that he said it, it clicked in Sideswipe’s cortex, and his pump skipped a beat. “...Oh, Primus. Prowl, I--”

“It’s alright. Sideswipe, I figured it out some time ago. I thought that we could overcome it.”

“Wait. Hold up.”

He tugged on Prowl’s arm, yanking him to a stop, then hurried up closer to him, his arms going around his mate to both hug him and stop him from running off as he stared down at him, disbelieving.

“Prowl. You _knew?!_ You already knew that we weren’t igniting because of me?!”

Impossible. How could he have--

…

Frag it all to the Pits.

Prowl was getting good at listening to their bond.

And every time they’d merged, every time they’d tried unsuccessfully to ignite, Prowl had been right there with him trying to breathe life into what would become a spark, trying so desperately to hold that little ball together, trying for _longer_ after it was passed to him, the potential carrier, the one who would nuture it until it was strong enough to emerge, and when it would always fall apart of _course_ he would try to figure out why it had happened, especially when it happened again and again and again. Prowl had searched their bond for the reason.

Prowl knew that the problem that they couldn’t ignite wasn’t himself.

He...had to have figured that out some time ago. And yet he pretended that he hadn’t and had kept trying, ignoring that ignition would be statistically impossible.

The only time that Sideswipe could remember being this sick was when he’d been in a fight in the Pits that had breached his tanks and ripped them open, the acidic, half-processed energon oozing through him and melting at his innards as he fought deactivation.

His arms wrapped tighter around his mate as he brought their helms closer until their forehelms touched.

“Primus above,” Sideswipe murmured, one hand rising to stroke the back of his mate’s head soothingly. “Prowl…”

“Sideswipe, you shouldn’t need to apologize to me. I’m the one who needs to apologize to you.” White hands held either side of his helm. “I knew...I felt something that was just… _lacking._ It’s not your fault, and it’s not Sunstreaker’s fault. It’s simply what you _are.”_

“Yeah. A fragging split-spark. I don’t have a whole spark to offer you. I _never_ had a whole spark for you.”

Prowl grimaced. “That’s not true. I know how much you love me not because you tell me so but because I feel it. With your entire self, you love me, and you’ve been trying as hard as I have for this sparkling.”

But it wasn’t enough.

It would _never_ be enough.

The twins each held half of one whole spark. A pair of binary stars, forever swirling around each other, journeying together through space, and nothing would _ever_ be as close to them as they were to each other. Not even their mates.

Sideswipe could never give Prowl the entire spark because it was not his to give. And Primus knew that Sunstreaker had no interest in assisting them with a sparkling anymore. The mech had been blocking Sideswipe out all day, despite Sideswipe pleading and scratching at the wall, knowing better than to forcefully tear it down unless it were an emergency.

No matter what they did, they were doomed to fail. It wasn’t possible to ignite without an entire spark.

“Why did you let us keep going?!” Sideswipe whined, doing all he could to not be angry at his mate, though his spark twisted and _burned,_ furious at the thought that he’d been led along. “Why didn’t you say something?!”

“I thought that we could overcome it.”

“You thought that you could _overcome a split-spark bond?!”_

“...You told me once that Sunstreaker accidentally ignited a sparkling, though it did not last. I thought that if Sunstreaker could somehow ignite, especially when he wasn’t meaning to do so, then we could as well.”

The wrathful fire instantly died.

“...Prowl. You stupid son of a glitch.”

Prowl knew.

Prowl _knew._

Prowl had been holding out through each failure with the thin, vain hope that if _Sunstreaker_ could ignite, then so could _Sideswipe._ And he was right. Somehow, Sunstreaker had defied the odds and _logic_ and gotten a sparkling of his own, even if it had only been for a few breems before it…

...Before it…

Sunstreaker said that Sideswipe had forgotten something. Sideswipe still couldn’t remember what it was. But whatever it was, it had meant that Sunstreaker had managed to hit lucky on the very short odds that he could ignite, but just because he managed to ignite didn’t mean that it would be _healthy._

He’d felt it dying. He’d told Sideswipe that he’d been infected with a virus so that they’d block each other out with as much force as two sparks familiar with their place in the All Spark could muster.

_“Maybe it’s worth it for you to not feel what it was like.”_

Sideswipe knew the risks. He still thought that it was worth it.

Sunstreaker did not.

The answer was within reach, tantalizing close, just at the tips of their grasping fingers. But Sunstreaker refused to give them the final clue, the last piece of the puzzle that would allow them to successfully ignite. Thinking of it, and the sparkling that he’d lost because of it, hurt too much.

“You’re not going to overcome it, Prowl.” The lifelessness in his own voice shocked and pained him. Their last bit of hope to succeed was being snuffed away. “It was a fluke. Maybe there was some weird set of circumstances that got a sparkling to ignite on Sunny’s spark, but whatever it was, it wasn’t strong enough for him to keep it. He couldn’t because I wasn’t there. I couldn’t give him my half of our spark back. Even if we somehow copied that fluke...the same thing would happen to us. We’d have a sparkling for less than a breem.”

“...So that’s it, then.”

“ _Sa._ That’s it.”

“That’s it. There’s nothing else we can do.”

“There’s nothing else we can do.”

Fraggit all, repeating it wasn’t making it any less painful to swallow. They’d been trying for _so long._ And they could keep trying, if they wanted to pretend that reality was working against them.

Sideswipe wanted to find some heavy rock in the field, throw it straight upwards, and nail Primus in the middle of his Pit-forsaken head. They had worked so hard, fraggit! They had done everything right! He’d promised Prowl this for their survival all the way to Iacon, and what did he have to show for it?! A brother who had been forcefully reminded of a new spark that he’d felt die in his own chamber, and a mate who was trying to pretend that their failure was somehow acceptable even as he clung to him?! 

They _deserved_ better than this, fraggit all!!

As much as he wanted to, Sideswipe didn’t roar and scream and destroy everything in sight in the field. Instead his arms tightened around his mate, holding him, his helm nuzzling the smaller mech’s while a black hand stroked a doorwing that was flopped so low down his back, it may as well have been flat.

His still had Prowl. He still had Sunstreaker.

He still had Iacon, and a tribe.

...He wanted more. Just one small, tiny thing, something that he would have laughed at vorns ago, and had been uncertain about decacycles ago, but now wanted with all of his being.

Lips gently meeting his own startled him out of his self-absorption, and his optics snapped back online to meet Prowl’s. He hadn’t remembered turning them off when his plating had squeezed down in frustration.

“There will eventually be a sparkling or youngling in need of a surrogate. There always is.”

“...I’d like it to be _ours.”_

“Just because we aren’t the ones to ignite and draw it out of the All Spark doesn’t mean that it would be any less of ours.” Prowl turned his head slightly to rest it on Sideswipe’s shoulder. “We would be giving a spark a family. Isn’t that what we wanted anyway?”

Logically?

Yes.

Illogically?

Sideswipe had envisioned them taking the merger all the way to completion and _satisfying_ themselves, then Prowl grinning as he held a hand over his spark chamber, then of a sparkling that would be a little bit of each of them. 

That dream could no longer happen. It had been so close, so fragging close. Sideswipe didn’t want to let it go.

Hadn’t this all been Prowl’s idea in the first place?! And yet he was ready to release the dream and begin a new one.

Because it was _logical._

Primus fraggit.

Sideswipe couldn’t bring himself to say a word about. It was so stupid, so selfish. There was plenty of room in their tent for a third spark, no matter if they were a new spark or a youngling. It made no sense for him to reject the idea.

He didn’t say a word. He just changed how he and Prowl were holding one another, allowing the white mech to now comfort him instead.

Because fragging Prowl was getting so good at _listening._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The small lantern hanging off of the center post flickered as Sideswipe adjusted it. Its pale orange glow was weak, just as he and his mate liked it when they were trying to recharge, but Sideswipe doubted that he’d get much rest done that night. Too much was swirling around his cortex, and his spark was uneasy. It didn’t help that Sunstreaker was _still_ blocking him out.

Being disconnected from the other half of his spark was not a good feeling. He suspected that the only reason that he hadn’t gone mad when he’d been first brought to the Autobot camp was because of his newly-fledged bond with Prowl, even after all the suffering that it had caused. Sunstreaker had been in far worse shape when he’d finally arrived. He’d said that he’d been delusional, and Sideswipe suspected that it wasn’t just because his tanks were almost dry.

Through the twins’ bond he ‘scratched’ and ‘knocked’ at the wall between them, but Sunstreaker didn’t budge. Now was not the time to force the wall down either, not when Sunstreaker had retreated away from the reminder of what their split-spark had cost him. What it _could_ cost Sideswipe if he kept pushing for this.

Sideswipe closed the tiny latch of the lantern with more force than necessary, making it wobble, the little light inside quivering, almost extinguishing before the mech corrected himself and grasped the lantern to stop its swinging.

It just wasn’t fair.

Through the part of his spark bonded to another that was _not_ Sunstreaker, he felt a warm, soothing pulse, one that spread out when it touched him and wrapped around him, embracing him, though he was too frustrated to respond in kind. His optics stayed on the little light held between his hands, now safe when he was calmed.

The blankets and furs covering the berth that he shared with his mate shifted.

“Sideswipe?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah--”

His poncho was pulled off and hung up on a lower notch on the pole, and then the waist cloth was laid aside as well before the red mech turned and crawled down into the berth to join his mate. Prowl had already disrobed for the night, and as soon as Sideswipe was close enough a white arm draped over his shoulders, the light weight gesturing for him to curl up and make himself comfortable.

“Are you alright?”

“Uh-huh. First time in a while that we’re not trying to frag each other like a pair of petro rabbits as soon as we settle down.” A pillow was stuffed under his head as he rolled over so that he could face Prowl. “Feels like we forgot part of a routine or something.”

“ _Sa.”_

One of the thick blankets was retrieved and pulled over both of them. The duo shifted, then shifted again, moving and squirming until they were snuggled up together and sighing as they settled down for a recharge.

“...”

Five breems went by. 

And then five breems more.

It hadn’t been quiet that long, but just long enough that Prowl startled when Sideswipe abruptly blew air out of his vents. 

“We’re not recharging, are we?”

Prowl turned his head to bury his face into the nearest pillow. “We should.”

“But we’re not.”

“It’s illogical to not recharge. There’s plenty of work to be done tomorrow. We leave Iacon in less than a deca-cycle.”

“And yet you’re not recharging.”

“Because you’re not.”

“You want me to block you out so you don’t have to sense the slag that I’m thinking about?”

“Please don’t,” Prowl mumbled into the pillow. “That would hurt me more than help, and I will most certainly _not_ recharge at all.”

“So then stay up with me, and worry. Misery loves company.”

At that mention and on reflex, he poked at the wall blocking him from Sunstreaker again. Still no response. His spark twisted and churned, angry, and he was certain _that_ was getting through, but still didn’t try to knock the wall down.

Fraggit all.

There was a little more blue light next to him than there had been a moment before. Prowl must have turned his head slightly to peek at him from over the fabric of the pillow.

And Primus fraggit, Prowl was good at listening.

The gentle pulse tried to wash over him once more. This time Sideswipe let it happen, his spark’s rotation slowing as the agitation was soothed, his plating releasing from how it was clamped down tightly on his frame. He sighed again through his vents, longer and drawn-out.

“How come you’re not as upset about this as I am?” he whispered up at the tent’s orange roof. “You’re the one that asked me for this.”

“I _am_ upset,” Prowl replied honestly. “But I’m more upset that you’re in so much pain because of this. If I had to choose between your happiness and having a sparkling--”

His vocalizer trailed off. He didn’t need to say more.

Sideswipe understood.

Prowl had longed since proved where his priorities lay by not saying anything about their promise until long after they’d reached Iacon.

A warm feeling blossomed inside Sideswipe’s spark again, and this time it didn’t come from anyone but himself. Primus, he loved this mech.

...That’s why he wanted so badly to have a sparkling with him. To start a _family_ with him.

They’d gotten so far together over the past vorn. It wasn’t fair that they would be denied the chance to have their own sparkling.

But in the end...he’d still have Prowl.

Sideswipe couldn’t help himself. The surge of warmth in his spark only increased as he rolled over and grasped his mate’s shoulder as he kissed him. He was answered by a squeak and the blanket flopping down to their waists as Prowl started.

“Where’d this come from?!”

“Just remembering that I love you. That’s all.”

He didn’t see but he _felt_ the lips slowly turning up into a smile under his own. He took that as permission to keep going, his kisses becoming longer and deeper, and soon enough Prowl was answering him, white hands holding his red shoulders as well as they grasped on to one another.

If this had been any night from the past few deca-cycles, Sideswipe would already be scrambling on top of Prowl in preparation to interface and merge before either of them could become distracted. But now, when it was confirmed that it wouldn’t be possible for them to ignite--

No, he wasn’t going to think about that.

He had Prowl. He hadn’t lost anything.

They could still start a family later, in a different way.

He still had Prowl.

With that in mind, he backed off slightly and let Prowl set the pace. Their kisses became slower but just as passionate, in fact even moreso, their heads turning slowly to find the right angle until it was as if their frames had been made to fit this way. Their hands went on the move, stroking, touching, savoring what they’d begun to take for granted and rush through. 

Sideswipe had missed this.

Hurrying through interfacing while they were trying for a sparkling had become technical and indifferent, going through the motions in order to fail and go into recharge frustrated and tired. He’d forgotten _why_ he loved interfacing with his mate. It was exciting, it was connecting down to a spark’s level, it was a reminder all at once that he was loved and adored and all of it was bounced back and forth between them, growing stronger and stronger, until they were testing the limits of their frames just to express that in physical form to one another. They’d fall into recharge exhausted and sore but beyond satisfied and happy and curled up in each other’s arms.

They weren’t trying for anything tonight other than to simply make love. And that suited Sideswipe just fine.

Pit, he wasn’t sure if they’d even work themselves up to overloading. He would have been happy just kissing and petting Prowl all night, lightly scolding himself for believing that he needed something more than this.

He had no idea how much time had passed until something distracted him.

A light poke at his spark. A touch.

Sideswipe abruptly slowed to nearly a stop.

_Sunstreaker._

“Mmm...Sideswipe?”

“I’m fine. I heard Sunny.”

His consciousness spiraled inwards, down to his bond with his twin, scrambling to answer him. But what he found was the same wall from before, a bit weaker, but still standing and blocking him from the other half of his spark.

_/...Sunny?/_

He ‘knocked’ on the wall.

_/Sunny, are you there?/_

There was a brief, dulled pulse in return. Barely more than the equivalent of saying ‘hey.’

Sunstreaker was there. Sunstreaker wasn’t as stressed anymore, and was assuring himself of his connection with his twin.

Sideswipe all but flooded the bond with _love, confidence,_ certain that everything would be all right. He knew that even with the wall up at least some of it would leak through, especially if the block wasn’t as strong as it had been earlier that day.

He didn’t mind that some of it was also leaking to his bond with Prowl too. His mate was quiet, staring at him and stroking his face, understanding that now was not his time, even when he was in the middle of laying with his mate.

...It felt dulled, even with the wall up, but he received a similar response from Sunstreaker.

_Everything would be alright._

“Do you need to go to him?” Prowl asked.

Sideswipe thought about it, then shook his head. “Nah. He’s alright. It’s late and he’s probably trying to settle his cortex before he recharges. He’s not panicking or anything, he’s just kind of...I dunno.”

Prowl scooted forward a few more inches to press the top of their helms together, two sets of blue optics gazing into one another. “He must feel similarly about us not igniting as you do.”

“ _Sa._ But I’m not going to push him about it. That never helps him. If he wants to talk about it, he’ll do it when he’s good and ready. Plus, he’s got Springer to help him now.” He leaned up slightly and grinned. “And I’ve got you.”

The tension that had returned to Prowl’s frame eased. “We don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to, Sideswipe. It’s been a trying day.”

“You kidding? I always want your aft.” Sideswipe nuzzled the chevron of his mate’s helm. “Now that I think about it, we haven’t had you on top in a while…”

“Is that what you want?” There was a tinge of alarm in Prowl’s optics. “Are you certain?”

“It’s not like anything’s going to happen now.” He didn’t mean for it to come out as dry and sour as it did, and he instantly corrected himself, purring into Prowl’s audial. “I want you in me. I want you fragging my valve and deep inside me, pumping in and out of me and filling me. C’mon, Prowl. I’ll bet your spike has been dying for some action.”

He knew it had. Several times over the nights of the past deca-cycles Prowl had pressed a hand over the sheath of his spike and winced, fighting the urge to repay Sideswipe in kind for all that he was doing to his valve, wise enough to not give in to it if they wanted _him_ to be the one carrying. And as much as Sideswipe prefered to use his spike, he honestly was getting weary. He’d never thought that would happen in his life, to want to give his poor spike a break and relieve a _longing_ in his valve that only Prowl could fulfill.

It didn’t take much more convincing for Prowl to crawl up to straddle him, his mouth back at work over his mate’s. Sideswipe shut off his optics and guided him blindly with his hands, familiar with his mate’s frame by now to not need sight in order to show him what he wanted and _where_ he wanted it. He heard the sound of Prowl unsheathing himself, and he shifted to give him better access, but Prowl wasn’t ready to do that yet. Instead a finger toyed at the nodes above his valve, then inside of it, and Sideswipe gasped into Prowl’s mouth as his legs shivered by themselves.

“Oh Primus _fraggit,_ Prowl!”

“It’s been a while,” his mate chuckled above him, flicking his fingers just to see Sideswipe wiggle again.

“Uh-huh. I-- _aah!_ \--forgot what a tease you like to be!”

“If you want me to stop, then tell me.”

“ _Na,_ don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t you fragging dare--AAAH!”

That time the finger hooked and dug deep, and Sideswipe all but levitated off of the berth to meet it. He lay there right afterwards, panting, glaring up at where Prowl was smiling as his touches returned to something more gentle, preparing, drawing out his valve’s attention as it realized with a happy influx of fluid that it was going to see more than his finger soon.

“You’re mean.”

“How so? Because I know exactly what you like?”

Sideswipe leaned his head back as a second finger joined the first, wiggling around inside of him and drawing out even more lubricant. “And then you make this poor mech yell and writhe and _love it_ when what I specifically asked for was your spike in me.”

“You _specifically_ asked for me to be deep inside of you. There was nothing about a spike.”

“...You wouldn’t do that to me.”

There was a laugh, and then a kiss on his chin. “Of course not. At least not tonight.”

“Aft. Get in me.”

The fingers withdrew, now coated and sticky. Prowl made a point of putting that hand on Sideswipe’s belly, showing him what he’d managed to draw out of his valve, before repositioning himself with his free hand wrapped around the base of his own spike, quickly primed at the sight of his mate’s wet valve. Its tip was guided forward, and the second that it touched the lips of Sideswipe’s valve he moaned and pushed himself up a little higher.

There was a weight on him, but nothing pressed inside.

“...Well?!”

“Just a minute. It’s been a while, and I want this image of you in my cortex when I recharge tonight.”

An outraged squawk and Sideswipe kicking his legs in the air on either side of Prowl got him going again. The tip pushed in, followed by the rest of the shaft, squeezing into a valve that eagerly welcomed him and tried to draw him deeper as it tightened at the same time. Both of them moaned; Sideswipe caught Prowl’s optics flickering before he regained his concentration and began to move, pumping slowly, easily, comfortably gliding himself further and further in with each thrust, not wanting to hurt his mate after a prolonged time with their positions switched around.

Sideswipe moved in time with him, grunting with each thrust, widening himself, electrifying jolts of pleasure reverberating up his struts. Hands grasped at Prowl, pulling him closer, giving him more to cling to, more to touch, fingertips gliding up and down his plating, squeezing down whenever Prowl discovered a node and pushed himself against it. As Prowl found a rhythm and picked up the pace, his spike utterly filling Sideswipe with each thrust, one black hand managed to stretch up to his doorwing and stroke along the sleek appendage while the other hand snaked around and cupped his aft. He couldn’t help a chuckle of his own when Prowl paused long enough to wiggle it for him.

“You feel so good in me...Primus! Aw, Prowl, I’ve missed this…”

Prowl leaning down to nibble at his lip quieted him down to moans and whines, each answered by the white mech. They met again and again, lips smacking at one another, enjoying themselves, enjoying _each other,_ in no rush to do anything but lose themselves in their own pleasure. Sideswipe’s hands returned to hold either side of Prowl’s helm, gripping him and keeping him still so that he could explore his mouth properly, while Prowl braced himself with his hands flat inside of the furs and pillows as he thrusted deeper and deeper.

Soon enough, Prowl was venting even heavier into Sideswipe’s mouth, gasping and pressing in as hard as he could. Something was building inside of him, and Sideswipe braced himself too in order to match his pace perfectly, wanting to take this journey together with him. It was sooner than he would have expected, but then again it had been so long since the last time they’d allowed themselves to truly _enjoy_ this, and he didn’t mind at all. He just wanted Prowl.

The white mech had to duck his head as his back curled and his doorwings flared upon his overload. Transfluid gushed into Sideswipe’s valve at the same time that his own overload hit, his valve tightening and milking at Prowl’s spike, demanding more and more and receiving it. He braced himself as he spasmed, his frame quivering underneath his mate, his mouth open and wide and panting up at Prowl’s which was doing the same, their noses touching as Prowl’s thrusts became slower but just as deep, pumping as much fluid into Sideswipe that he could.

“Uggnnn…”

Shaking black hands found their way to Prowl’s shoulders and then scrambled up further, hugging him and drawing him closer. Prowl followed the motion as he lowered himself until he was practically laying on Sideswipe, his thrusts petering out as they became lighter and shallower, pushing in the last of the transfluid before he settled down and used his mate as a warm berth, if not a lumpy one.

The sense of being ‘full’ was something Sideswipe didn’t think that he’d ever get used to. He didn’t mind it one bit.

His fingertips stroked along the top edge of a lowered doorwing as they retreated back from how they had flared before. “Have I told you lately that you’re gorgeous?” he croaked.

“The last time you did it was to get out of trouble.”

A crooked smile worked its way up one side of his face. “Promise I’ve got no other reason for saying it this time than to tell you the truth. You’re a gorgeous mech. I’ve missed doing this with you.”

“And so have I. I love you, Sideswipe”

There wasn’t a word about them having interfaced nearly every night. It wasn’t the same as _this._

Both of their frames sighed happily. Prowl shifted to make himself more comfortable as he withdrew his deflating spike out of Sideswipe’s valve with a squealch and a dribble of escaping fluid, and then he gently gave a long, loving kiss to his black forehelm.

“Feel better?”

“Hmm. Much.” A true smile graced Sideswipe’s face. “I’m up for seconds.”

“Maybe in a minute.”

“Maybe.” Sideswipe stretched with a groan, indulging in the glow swirling around his cortex shortly after a good overload. His arms reached up over his head, beyond the berth, then flopped back down again on the pillows just over the top of his helm. “...Or…”

“...Or?”

“Or, we can skip seconds, and do something even better?”

Prowl frowned and cocked his head to the side as his eye ridges furrowed. They snapped back up again in a second as alarm returned to his optics.

“Do you want to? What if--”

It didn’t matter. It wouldn’t happen. It wouldn’t be possible without the entire spark that Sideswipe shared with Sunstreaker. And right now he couldn’t even ask for cooperation; he was being blocked.

So in a sense...Sideswipe was free to do what he wanted.

He kept his arms where they lay above his head as he smiled even more widely up at Prowl and let his chestplates slides back. The front of his spark chamber pulled aside shortly afterwards, bathing Prowl’s astonished face in a blue light.

He didn’t say a word. He let his spark call out for its mate instead.

Prowl paused, frozen.

Then the glow of blue light doubled as it was answered.

Prowl had barely shuffled into position before his own chestplates were pulled back as well. Sideswipe had enough of his facilities in reality left to stroke his mate’s face adoringly as the second blue light added to his own, their two frames pressing up against one another, and the last thing Sideswipe remembered before all of his senses turned inward was Prowl’s head coming down to nuzzle his own before it rested on his shoulder.

Then, in an instant, all that mattered was the light pulling at him, drawing at him, and he saw it, or rather, his _spark_ saw it, that perfect sphere of light connected to his own, spinning and dancing in a way that could only be _Prowl._ Sideswipe’s spark joined it, leaping about and spinning, calling towards its equal before matching time with it, the two of them chasing and dancing around one another, pulled together by their own gravity before leaping apart and doing it all again.

There was a distant feeling of their frames moving to lay more comfortably and press their chambers even closer to one another, but it was far off and didn’t matter too much to him. The important thing was to eliminate the dead space between them, the open air where a spark was exposed and at risk by the environment, even a place as safe and warm as their tent. His spark bounced around impatiently until there was a shuddering motion of metal bumping against metal, and then it leapt forward, clearing the minimized space.

Static zapped through the air as electrons jumped between the two sparks, Prowl’s taken by surprise at the other’s sudden presence next to it. The shock passed quickly, and then Prowl’s spark was leaping at him too, touching, spinning, their frames shivering from the raw energy passing through them. Sideswipe was vaguely aware of his valve clenching on nothing, tightening to gather a spike that was no longer there, and if it _had_ been there he’d be drawing it in again, but instead he closed himself around Prowl’s transfluid, drawing it into himself. But that was all in the background. His focus, his entire _being_ was on the connection between himself and his mate, the bond expanding and encapsulating them both until it was their entire universe as they merged.

Memories flowed between them, thoughts, feelings, senses, _smells._ Some of them were able to be associated with things that Sideswipe knew, like the rain on the wildlands, or a Minotoron when it waddled by, or spilt energon after a fight, or his _own_ scent, usually invisible to him, now heightened several times as something Prowl eagerly sought out. It was likely that Prowl was now getting what Sideswipe smelled of him: Cybertron in its rawest state, energon, smoke, and crystals, so many different crystals that Prowl had been lucky enough to be surrounded by for most of his life without realizing it. More memories came through, fleeting, associated with intense feelings than as solid projections. Sideswipe let them pass before him, a disjointed series of recordings replaying in front of him, his spark less concerned with what Prowl was accidentally sharing and instead focusing on his essence.

Gone were the days when Sideswipe feared spark-playing with another mech. Now he and Prowl merged deeply all the time. What would happen? They would bond? Ignite? It’s what they _wanted._ And the later part they would never get. There was nothing to stop them from doing it anyway. 

The brushes of two sparks slipping by each other and passing on bits and pieces stopped as they circled each other in a slower, more intimidate dance, one that they’d become familiar with but hadn’t allowed themselves to savor in quite some time. Tendrils of light slipped around each of the sparks as they explored each other with the same amount of curiosity as they had the first time they’d merged, because no matter how many times they did this there was always something new, something they’d never seen before, something they’d never _felt_ before. Caution gradually gave way to eagerness. The two orbs of light floated around each other gently, caressing, soothing, then, as one being, they pressed forward and pressed their fields around each other.

Sideswipe arched his back with a short cry, the joy of being as close to his mate’s essence as mortally possible mixed with the thrill of what they were doing, and then, at the worst possible time, shock.

Because the wall between him and Sunstreaker had dropped.

_/Don’t block me./_

Sideswipe was too overwhelmed to think about shoving his twin away. He was partly in a merge, and his spark was both relishing in the deep exploration of another’s field and...something else. 

Something had changed.

He kept pushing, further, and further, both horrified and elated at how _easy_ it was now, when all the times before this he and Prowl had struggled through a painful tug to return back to their own chambers when they went this far. Prowl’s own shock was completely undiluted, and Sideswipe swore that he was looking at his own slack-jawed expression through _his_ optics.

_/Sunny, what--?!/_

_/I’m only going to try this once. Just the one time, and then I’m done. You ready?/_

Ready?!

Ready for what?!

The twins’ bond flared wide open, and instantly Sideswipe was as connected to his brother as if they were fighting side-by-side against an indomitable foe, ducking in sync, weaving in sync, _everything_ in sync, everything as the singular mech that they had once been meant to be. The perpetual spin of two binary stars became so fast that no one could distinguish them as two, not even themselves; they were a singularity, shining brighter than ever, brighter than anything in the dark universe beyond the mortal realm. 

They nearly outshone the mate of a piece of the synced mech. They felt Prowl begin to withdraw, alarmed, frightened, wanting to shiver away from the light that humbled him in comparison. Sideswipe’s instinct to reach out to him and remind him of his presence, to tell him that yes, he was the more powerful mech, but he understood that power, and could reign it in before it could harm him. That instinct stopped Prowl from retreating completely, and he dared to turn his attention up towards the brilliant star before him.

Star. Stars. Two stars. Two halves.

Two halves that were connected and spinning rapidly around each other, close enough that for a short time they were _one,_ and--

In a split second, both Prowl and Sideswipe realized what Sunstreaker was offering them.

They paused.

Then leapt.

The binary star dwarfed the light of one so small and insignificant and _normal_ , but they drew him in anyway, swirling and weaving and trying to figure out how to accommodate a third star in their midst until suddenly, in a flash, they’d done it. Sideswipe sensed that he was grasping his brother’s hands, and then his mate’s, but they were in the same hands, at the same time, his fingers were wrapped around a set that was both white and golden…

No, _he_ was the one who was changing colors. Prowl’s were white, they were _always_ white. His own were black, then gold, then black again, then golden again, flashing back and forth and he wasn’t sure for a moment if his spark had been lost in the sync and he was unable to determine which half he was, and then _that didn’t matter,_ because his hands were clasped around Prowl’s and something was growing between them.

Their fingers, the _tendrils_ pulled back just far enough to let the new ball expand. It swirled and spun, pulling in light that was trying to escape its own gravity, until it sputtered, sparked, _ignited_ and twinkled online in the dark night. It was brilliant, but so small and unseen compared to the normal spark and the _monstrosity_ that was the binary star spinning around so tight and fast next to it. It risked being blown away, scattered off to the far edges of the universe where it would surely burn out and die, and Sideswipe flailed against his own spin to pull away from both his brother and his mate and catch it.

Slinky and long fingers of light wrapped around it and drew it closer, nestling it in tightly, then, just as fast, wanting nothing more than to let go of it and throw it back. It didn’t feel right, it felt _wrong._ He knew what sparks he was supposed to be connected to, and this...this was weird and new and not his mate or his brother and it needed get away from him, he needed to--

To just calm down.

Calm down.

_/Calm down./_

He froze. Despite the intrusion into his spark, despite the threat, he stopped at his twin’s voice. Or was it his own? It was hard to tell when they were spinning this tight, this close…

But he listened.

…

…

A pulse.

One.

A second.

Two.

A third. A fourth. A fifth.

Intrusions didn’t _pulse._ They hissed and clawed and tried to tear sparks into tiny pieces for viruses to feed on as they extinguished it. They didn’t pulse and wiggle and try to find the best way to fit in next to him.

Sideswipe guided it in, finding a small notch at his side, a slight weakness in his field that hadn’t been there a moment ago, something that he’d made weak _himself_ just so the little Whatever It Was had a place to fit in. 

It stayed there, and as he strengthened his field around it, firmly blanketing it into an orbit around him, he felt something else drawing near, _another_ intruder. At first he flared and snarled, energy spiking and warning it away, but when it drew even closer, he realized that he knew what it was, and immediately he was pulsing apologies and letting it nearer. The new _thing_ was safe. In fact...he should probably show the other spark that. He turned, and the teeny little thing orbited along with him, safely tucked into his field.

The other spark lingered, just long enough for the Whatever It Was to pulse once at it, and for the spark to pulse back. And then it drew away.

Yet Sideswipe didn’t feel unhappy about this at all. He felt _warm._ The other spark hadn’t gone far.

Prowl hadn’t gone far.

...And neither had Sunstreaker.

_/Don’t you dare block me. Don’t fragging block me. This is a crucial time right now!/_

_/Crucial for what?/_ Sideswipe surprised himself at how tired he sounded, even when ‘speaking’ through their bond. _/Sunny, what the frag was that?/_

_/Do. Not. Block. Me. You got it?/_

_/I got it, I got it. Primus, keep your crotchplate on.../_

He was aware of his chestplate closing as his attentions returned to reality. There was a new status window at a corner of his HUD. Sideswipe wrinkled his nose as he expanded it, analyzed the read-outs...everything normal. But normal in what? Did something install?

...Oh.

Well…

OH.

“Fraaag, Prowl.” He flopped his head back on the pillows as his optics struggled to online themselves for an image beyond his HUD. “I was supposed to give it to you! Slaggit all. I’m sorry...Prowl?”

The blur of colors focused, becoming less of an white foreground to an orange background, and instead into the shapes of the tent folds, then of doorwings, then his mate’s helm and face. He was having trouble picking out the finer details as his optics calibrated themselves, but the shocked awe on Prowl’s face was more than clear.

Then his audials had to do some recalibrations of their own as Prowl cried out.

“ _Sideswipe!!”_

Sideswipe jolted.

He sat up, the clarity of his optics be slagged.

His cortex counted down three astro-seconds before he got it.

Later, Ironhide would tell Prowl and Sideswipe that he happened to be passing their tent on his patrol, and the quiet of the night had been broken by what sounded like a couple of younglings screaming in excitement and bouncing around their tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys want to start guessing...It's a canon G1 character. : )


	6. Carrier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A great big thank you to _Menial_ for helping me to get this chapter out for everyone to read! She is a most awesome person.  <3

Chapter 6: Carrier

“Well, I suppose this settles whether I’m going to join you idiots going to Luna-1 or not.”

Sideswipe raised his head up slightly to look over his chestplate at where Ratchet was kneeling at the far end of the mat. “You weren’t planning on coming with us?”

“You’ve got plenty of help coming along, including other healers, and there’s still mechs and femmes recovering from injuries from the battle just before we entered Iacon. I was considering staying with them, and that the advance camp would bring anyone ill back to Iacon.

“Prowl said it would take two orns to walk back to Iacon from the camp. How would that help someone at the advance camp who was too grievously injured to move?”

Something was adjusted under the panel that Ratchet had opened, and Sideswipe twitched and winced, but the healer either hadn’t seen his pained motion or ignored it. 

“Unless you’ve somehow figured out how to put two of me down on this planet, one in Iacon and one at the advance camp, I assumed that I would be doing the greatest amount of good by staying here, where we already have sick mechs and femmes. But Perceptor’s doing a fine job as a healer, and he’s not moving his aft away from Iacon. And considering that you’re carrying now, and that once the camp is established there will be more carriers shortly afterwards…”

“Not an imagery that I need right now, thanks!” 

Ratchet’s snorted cackle at that only deepened Sideswipe’s scowl, a reverse of their usual roles.

The elation from the previous night as Sideswipe and Prowl jumped up as they _finally_ succeeded, hollering and yelling and dancing around and waking up all their neighbors in their excitement, had faded. Or at least it had for Sideswipe. Prowl had yet to stop grinning when they brought Sideswipe to the healers’ tent in the morning, and then the mech had run off somewhere, likely to go tell Jazz.

Sideswipe didn’t want to interrupt his mate’s joy as his own happiness gave way to anxiety. He tried to suppress it on their bond, but the more he thought about the fact that he was now carrying _two_ sparks in his spark chamber, the more nervous he became.

The panel snapped closed and Ratchet pulled a blanket over Sideswipe’s lap to give him some privacy as he continued checking over him. “The transfluid is on it’s way to being converted into nanites and everything needed to build the frame. You’re going to feel a thick pressure as it grows.”

Sideswipe’s tanks felt like they had twisted upon themselves. “Oh, that’s fragging _great._ Thanks, Ratchet.”

Red hands paused from where they were checking the medical port on his wrist. Ratchet didn’t have the same equipment installed that a mech working in a city hospital would have, but Sideswipe had learned that examining the port itself could help a healer to determine if there were signs of a rust infection. “I take it that you two had still intended for Prowl to be the one carrying.”

“The only reason we switched things up was because we had given up! When we finally ignited, wouldn’t you know it, I had Prowl’s transfluid in me and my frame was like ‘You know, we’ve never carried before and we’ve _never_ intended to carry, but since we’re technically ready for it let’s bring the sparkling over to him instead!’ This whole thing was a slagging accident.”

Ratchet’s voice lowered. “...Are you thinking about--”

“No, no, of course not! Ratchet, you saw how hard we were fighting to ignite! I’m not letting this sparkling go for anything, even if I wasn’t the one who wanted to carry.”

He wasn’t going to give his sparkling up.

He had a sparkling

He was _carrying._

Primus. Each time he thought about it, he had to consider that he was lying to himself because it shouldn’t have been possible. He and Prowl had been so careful to make sure that Prowl ended up with the sparkling, not Sideswipe.

It was fragging Sunstreaker’s fault.

...Yet if it hadn’t been for Sunstreaker, they wouldn’t be carrying at all.

The twins’ bond was wide open, yet the golden mech was quiet on his end, except whenever Sideswipe tried to narrow it to give themselves some privacy. Instantly Sunstreaker would force it back open and yell at him to not try to block it in any way. And then he’d go silent again.

Sunstreaker was worried, Sideswipe knew he was. He could _feel_ that he was, candidly and without any narrowing of the bond to hide that fact. He was keeping his distance, and _horror_ and _shame_ kept leaking through, along with short bursts of _excitement._

His twin was trying not to focus the fact that _something was being constructed inside of Sideswipe._

That recollection and knowledge, along with the explanations of everything Prowl and Ratchet had told him about how carrying would work and to which Sideswipe had paid half an audial’s worth of attention to when he was sure that he would _not_ be the one to have to worry about the intricacies of it smashed into him. He groaned as his head thunked back on the mat. 

“Sideswipe, I am not joking. If you don’t think you are capable--”

“I am _plenty_ capable,” he growled, frustrated anger rippling through his spark, and then his tanks flopped as something that wasn’t Sunstreaker and wasn’t Prowl _shuddered._ His instinct was to soothe the second presence in his spark chamber, and he did so, hushing it and promising that he was not angry with _it_ as he glowed and swept the much smaller spark into a warm field.

He didn’t realize until the tips of his fingers were scratching at his paint that one hand had slapped down over his chestplate, right above his spark chamber.

Primus, was this what he had to look forward to?! Not that he objected to caring for the new-spark, but it was so _strange_ to have his spark directly soothing another’s that wasn’t his twin or mate.

“It’s just...different than how this would go in the city.” He stopped himself from announcing to Ratchet that if this had been in Kaon, and he hadn’t had a mate, no, a _partner_ like Prowl, he’d be at the nearest clinic which could quietly neutralize the new-spark. “Building a spark works in the same way. But a frame? This is _weird.”_

“Yet you were expecting Prowl to do this for you?”

“Prowl was _excited_ by the idea of carrying. And so am I,” he said hastily when Ratchet tried to interrupt him. “I just...building a frame that I can’t see? _Inside_ of me? If this was a city, we’d hire somebody to build the base frame. Make it look exactly like we want it to, give it some sort of function that might be better than mine and Prowl’s.”

“You would put your sparkling into something _dead?!”_

“Well… _sa!_ It’s not alive until the spark drops into it!”

His other hand touched his abdomen under the blanket, far lower than where the spark chamber was..

“Same with this. It’s just a _thing_ until the spark drops into it.”

“Hmph. Well, this _thing_ is far more suited for a sparkling than a dead frame welded together by someone who never knew your new-spark. It’s based from yours and Prowl’s nanites from your transfluid.” Ratchet flicked Sideswipe’s hand off of the blanket, then pointed down at his lower frame. “The protoform won’t make you distend like you’re a Minotoron. However, you will still feel it as it’s upgraded into a base frame that can hold a spark independently. You and Prowl will still need to interface gently, and I mean _gently_ to replenish the nanites and keep the protoform healthy.”

“I’m not opposed to that,” Sideswipe said dryly, a smirk finally etching its way up his face, though nowhere near as wide as it usually could go.

It faded just as quickly when a thought occurred to him.

“Hey, Ratch?”

“Hmph?” The healer had found a cloth and was wiping off his hands.

“What would happen if Prowl wasn’t around to help?”

Ratchet huffed at what he must have considered to be a stupid question, as if Sideswipe had asked if the sun would rise tomorrow. “Prowl _will_ stay nearby you.”

“Yeah, but what if he couldn’t? What if he was hurt, or had to leave the tribe for some reason?”

“Then we would find a surrogate to help you.”

It was said so flatly that Sideswipe at first thought that Ratchet was joking. But as he lay there waiting for the real explanation, and Ratchet only focused on cleaning his hands and then with putting his tools away, Sideswipe’s optics grew tremendously wider.

“...You’re serious. You’re fragging serious?!”

The healer wrinkled his faceplates. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“That is...for Primus’s _sake…”_

“I am impressed that city-mechs _never_ separate their mates,” he drawled as Sideswipe lifted his hands to grasp his audial-horns with a long, drawn-out groan of vexation. 

“Okay, first of all, in the city we never becomes _mates_ with each other. There’s Conjunx Endura and Amica Endura, but that’s totally different slag, and Kaon doesn’t care about it that much. It’s nothing like what you all do. And second, how the frag do you put so much of _everything_ into mechs and femmes finding mates, getting bonded, and then have the ball-bearings to say ‘you’d go get a surrogate’?!” Sideswipe hands flailed around over his head and kicked the blanket. “Doesn’t that defy the whole point of getting bonded?!”

“Would you rather that we let the protoform wither, and the sparkling never comes to be?”

“I’d think that _then_ you’d get somebody to just build a slagging frame!”

“I would never construct a dead frame for anyone, let alone a new-spark. That’s disgusting,” Ratchet snarled, his tools clattering as he set them down on his work table with far more force than necessary. “Anyway, it doesn’t matter. I know Prowl, and he would not leave your side, nor allow himself to deactivate while you were still carrying.”

There was little that Sideswipe needed to do to confirm this. Across his bond with his mate he could still feel the other mech’s gleeful _excitement,_ still far more muffled than anything from his twin’s bond, but that spoke volumes of how intense it must be for Prowl to be broadcasting so much. At an uncertain ping from Sideswipe that feeling immediately turned into _concern._ A question was asked, and even Prowl wasn’t strong enough to turn it into more than an idea, Sideswipe understood it well enough.

 _/I’m okay. Just going over stuff with Ratchet./_ He let some of his natural slyness ebb down the bond. _/Maybe I wasn’t paying as much attention to anything he said about carrying before now except the part where I was supposed to frag you senseless./_

A pulse came back, tougher, but still with an edge of humor to it. His mood swung a little higher at their bond’s equivalent of shoving at his shoulder playfully.

“I was just curious. I know he’s not leaving me.”

“Good. I’ll emphasize one more time--”

“I am _ready!”_ Sideswipe snapped, the good feeling vanishing and the scowl snapping back into place. “Look, I may not be prepared as Prowl or anybody else who’s, you know, _used to this,_ but I’ll figure this slag out!”

“What I worry about is not your _ability,_ but your _affinity._ The entire tribe will help you and Prowl if they must, but I have lived a long time on Cybertron, Sideswipe, and I’ve seen carriers become disinterested in caring for their own sparkling, especially if they weren’t ready to carry.”

Ratchet’s tone, sharp as always, had a new edge to it. A cold sensation spread up Sideswipe’s lines. Once again the new-spark reacted to his shock, and once again he wrapped it up in his field and soothed it.

“ _Na._ That’s not going to happen,” he growled. “Me and Prowl have worked too hard for this just to give up on it.”

Ratchet didn’t look convinced. Sideswipe blew air out of his vents with a short swear, then forced himself to relax on the mat.

“...Could do with a short recharge,” he mumbled, his vocalizer softening.

“And I need to check on the supplies I’m leaving with Perceptor. Do you want to rest in here for now?”

Sideswipe nodded, blue optics staring up at the orange fabric roof of the tent.

“Fine, I’ll be back in a joor or so. Don’t touch anything.”

“I swear that I’m not feeling up for it, Ratch.”

“Injuries and illness have never stopped you from purposely making my life miserable before,” the healer drawled, but there was little malice behind it. As he stepped out with a small bag of his personal supplies he drew the tent folds closed behind him, leaving Sideswipe alone in the healers’ tent, for once.

Despite everything, some part of Sideswipe’s cortex cackled evilly at Ratchet’s naivety. 

Did he really think something like abruptly becoming a carrier was going to stop his fun?!

...Rest _did_ sound like a good idea, though.

Left in peace and relative privacy, the fabric of the tent muffling the sounds of the Autobot camp going through their daily chores and tasks, Sideswipe let his frame relax, and willed his spark to do the same. The sounds of familiar footsteps and voices nearby had become a comfort over the past...Primus, it had to be a vorn now, at least. A vorn since he’d been brought to the Autobots, frightened and confused and _wrathful._

And now he was carrying one of their new-sparks.

Sideswipe, Mercenary of Kaon, would have laughed himself sick at the idea.

Sideswipe, _yoska_ of the Autobot tribe, put a hand back over his chestplate and rubbed gently at the armor, as if he could reach inside and massage the new-spark that was curled up next to his own.

If he kept doing this each time he felt it _move,_ he was going to peel his own paint off with his fingertips by the end of the deca-cycle.

He kept staring up at the orange ceiling, watching the fabric flutter slightly under the wind, the slight glow from one corner telling him where the sun was. He let his systems slow down and cycle, his ventilations becoming deeper, the operations on his HUD ticking off as they became optimized, and if it wasn’t for that _something_ he would have let himself go into recharge.

It took a few breems before he finally addressed that _something_ at the nearest tent wall.

“Are you going to come in now or what?”

There was no response at first.

Then a huff, mimicking his own from a few minutes ago, learned the same way as him.

Then footfalls, circling around the tent, and then the flap was pushed back, but on his last few steps Sunstreaker froze, suddenly changing his mind.

“It’s okay, Sunny.” Sideswipe shuffled to sit up on his elbows, speaking to the shadow hiding behind the flap. “I’m not hurt, and I’m not mad.”

“I _know_ that you’re fragged off, Sideswipe. The bond is wide open.”

“...Okay, I’m a little mad. You should have told me what you were gonna do before me and Prowl started.”

Sunstreaker hesitated, then pushed the flap aside the rest of the way and let it settle behind him as he crossed the tent, his face tight as he stared down at his twin. With their proximity so close and the bond open so wide that no privacy between their sparks was possible, _shame_ all but seemed to crash over Sideswipe as if he’d been hit by a tidal wave from the Sea of Rust.

“I couldn’t make myself consider it until after you two had started,” Sunstreaker mumbled. “There was no time to ask. And I didn’t think that you would have changed positions! Wasn’t that the point so that there was no possible way for you to carry?!”

Sideswipe patted the ground next to his mat, inviting his twin to sit, and as the golden mech lowered himself down, the red one pushed himself a little further so that he could look at him optic-to-optic. 

“Sunny, when did you figure out what to do?”

“When we were talking earlier last orn. I...Sides, I figured out why I _had_ mine, if only for a few breems.”

Primus, he didn’t think that the waves of _shame_ and _guilt_ ebbing off of his twin could get any worse. But abruptly, they did.

A black hand clasped over a golden one, and squeezed. In a realm that was not their own, a pulse beamed out, quiet, gentle, a wave of energy from one star to another that simple and yet lent him the strength that he sorely needed.

Sunstreaker took a deep intake of air.

“...That night was the last time I saw him. We were partying, we had high grade. We got overcharged. And you went out to your bar while I was gone, right?”

“I was done with a match, yeah,” Sideswipe nodded. “I knew that you weren’t going to be coming back that night, and you were blocking me while you were with _him,_ so I went out for a drink. So...what? We need to be overcharged in order to spark?”

“No, it wasn’t that we were overcharged. But...yeah, it’s partly got to do with that.” He shook his helm. “We were both overcharged. Neither of us were paying attention to the bond, or about maintaining the block. Sideswipe. _We dropped the block.”_

...It was difficult for Sideswipe to recall the exact turn of events from that night. After all, he’d been doing his best to _not_ think about Sunstreaker as he joked and ribbed with his friends while burning through what little caps they had while they were still working in the Pits. The high-grade had been hitting a mostly empty tank. 

But he did remember when he felt something like an _alarm._ A shock from Sunstreaker, felt all the way from across the city, when even without a block the twins would have difficulty communicating with each other over their bond. 

Shock. _Horror._

The bond had been widened considerably, an instinct by both twins when they thought that they were in imminent danger and needed to sync. But then just as fast it was closed up, and then his comm had crackled on their private channel.

_::VIRUS!!::_

Sideswipe didn’t have time to question his twin further as the comm cut off. Instead he threw the block back up, doubling over the bar counter and gripping the edge as he steeled himself against whatever was attacking their bond, his fuel-pump double-timing as his processor came up with all sorts of horrific imaginings of what was happening to his twin and how he’d acquired a spark-eating virus.

He’d felt no indication of Sunstreaker’s spark being damaged.

But he’d felt _pain._

Sideswipe was lucky to have been such good friends with the bartender. His unpaid tab quietly vanished once the femme had learned that one of her regulars had a legitimate, dire emergency.

Less than an orn later he’d learned the truth of what the ‘virus’ really was and had been holding Sunstreaker as the mech howled in a tearful frustration.

But now another truth had been uncovered, and Sideswipe found himself staring off at nothing, focused on the fabric wall of the far end of the tent. Sunstreaker was still sitting next to him, having not said a word.

“Primus Almighty,” Sideswipe whispered. “I...I caused you to ignite.”

“We both made a mistake and both dropped our sides of the block. It wasn’t much, but it was just enough.”

“...And then we clamped down on it right afterwards and--”

Sideswipe’s vocalizer died. Sunstreaker’s optics dropped down to the tent’s dirt floor.

“...That’s why you’re so scared of leaving our bond anywhere but wide open, Sunny? You think it’ll happen again?”

“I’m not willing to risk it. You are _not_ going through what I went through.” Sunstreaker’s conviction was far stronger along their bond than in his voice. His hands squeezed into fists and shook. “Especially because you _want_ this sparkling. I’d never thought how painful it would be to live with my spark destroying another’s. Fighting and needing to deactivate a son of a glitch is one thing. But that...that was--”

“Hey. _Hey.”_

Sideswipe leaned closer to his twin and grasped his hands over Sunstreaker’s fists, stopping them from rattling so badly.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it’s not your fault? You didn’t know what would happen. Neither of us did. Neither of us had ever thought about having a sparkling. That wasn’t going to be in our cards _ever._ We thought that one would hold us back, eat up all of our credits, or we’d be deactivated and it would rust in a gutter somewhere. ‘Accidentally’ having a sparkling wasn’t going to be a thing either; we were careful about it.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You made a mistake, and I made a mistake. The only one who deserves any blame is _that mech.”_

“Sideswipe, he tried to help.”

“He ran.” An enraged madness, an unbridled hatred for the one mech who had hurt his Sunstreaker more than any other, attempted to resurface but was stomped back down before it could rear its head too far. Sideswipe cleared his vocalizer and tried to grin at his twin, trying to broadcast soothing pulses to him instead. “Anyway, you have Springer now. Our lives are completely different than how they were before. Sunny, this time I was purposely trying to have a sparkling and you figured it out and it _worked.”_

He squeezed his hands over Sunstreaker’s as they shook again.

“...Right. So you better not close the bond down at all. I got you this sparkling and you are _not_ losing it, you understand?!”

Now Sideswipe’s grin truly grew. “I agree with you one-hundred percent. But, uh, just one thing--”

“No. Leave it open.”

“Sunny, it’s been several joors. The new-spark’s strong now, I don’t think it’ll accidentally--”

He squawked as their hands abruptly switched, Sunstreaker’s snapping up and clamping down on Sideswipe’s wrists painfully.

“Leave. It. Open.”

“Okay, okay, Primus!” Sideswipe winced. “Keeping this wide open is going to be exhausting though, eventually we’ll have to narrow it!”

An idea occurred to him.

“...Sunny. Do you want to see it?”

All of the malice from Sunstreaker’s side of the bond, partially-playful as it may have been, disappeared instantly. His optics widened considerably, and his hands dropped away from his twin’s.

“You think I could?”

“Yeah. Well, with our bond wide open, we’ve always been able to ‘see’ a bit of each other, you know?” Sideswipe waved at the air around his head, trying to grasp at the right words to cement his thoughts. “Even before the whole thing with Alpha Trion and the Iacon prophecy and all that slag...we’re good at looking into the Matrix by ourselves, you know?”

“I try not to think about that too much. It makes us sound weird.”

“You want to talk about weird?! I’ve got a second, smaller spark sitting really close to mine in my spark chamber, and I’ve got a frame being formed inside me too, and it’s all sorts of fluid-y and building itself and _GUH!_ Primus, it’s so gross, Sunny.” Sideswipe shuddered, nauseated. “I’m going to do everything I can for this sparkling, but that doesn’t make it any less nasty.”

“In that case, why in the Pit would I want to see it?!”

“Because you helped to ignite it.”

Sideswipe snorted at the noise Sunstreaker’s engine made.

“Sunny, Sunny, it’s still mine and Prowl’s. But we’re halves of each other’s sparks, and you did help us out. So...wanna see?”

Sunstreaker’s voice lowered. “...The last time I was close to a new-spark, my own spark attacked it.”

“You won’t this time, I promise. I almost went through the same thing, but now I recognize it as mine and a piece of me. Besides, if you were going to think of it as intrusive on our bond, wouldn’t you have already tried to attack it?”

“Fair point.” Still, Sunstreaker didn’t look entirely convinced, and as Sideswipe prodded him over their bond, he wrinkled his faceplates. “I don’t want to hurt it.”

“I won’t let you. C’mon.”

This was always easy to do. It did not require the twins to reveal their open spark-chambers, only that they be in relatively close proximity to each other. After all, what they were going to see was not their sparks as they appeared in reality, surrounded by a shell of ever-flowing electrons and positrons. What they would see was each other in their true forms within the All-Spark, two binary stars swirling around each other in a dark sky, and now that they knew what to call this expanse of infinite black space, they knew that there were other stars somewhere out there, too far to reach, too far to see, not without a Matrix or a bond. One of them had come much closer, permanently linked to Sideswipe and pulled in by their gravity.

But that bond would never be like that of two binary stars. Compared to the link between a pair of split-sparks, Prowl was a far-off planet at the edge of their solar system, orbiting and warmed by the nearest star, but he would never enjoy their light and warmth quite like each other did. Not without physically merging with his mate.

Sideswipe no longer saw the tent around him. He no longer saw his own frame, nor could he feel it without losing his concentration. He knew that he was still facing his brother, their blue optics locked onto one another, but neither was thinking about the physical dimension, instead diving down into a plane that they’d always thought had been a unique place to feel each other on their bond until the last vorn with the Autobots had defined where they really were.

The two stars swirled around each other in a familiar dance, letting their mutual gravity tug them in, skirting their edges, then flinging away and coming right back, swinging faster and faster until they felt as if they were not two, but one. Unlike when they synced in a battle, they found themselves in an easy and comfortable peace, resting within their own bond, their energies supplementing one another, the familiarity as strong as if they should have been this way the moment that they were sparked. 

There was an extra weight to Sideswipe’s movement’s, however. He wasn’t as nimble as he usually was, as quick in the true form of his spark as he was in reality. He slowed, and his other half slowed with him, concerned, wondering, until Sideswipe guided them into a rotation where he could show off the third spark that had been added to their dance.

Comparable to the twins, it was too small and dim, more like a near-orbiting planet to star than one in its own right. But dim as it was, it still shone with its own light, stronger than when it had been sparked less than an orn ago. It stayed close to Sideswipe, nestled into his field, knowing that if it tried to venture off into the dark vacuum of space alone it would surely extinguish and die. 

For too long Sunstreaker’s spark hovered, tidally locking himself over the new-spark, observing it but not daring to allow himself to get any closer. Sideswipe’s concentration wavered slightly as he heard his brother’s frame make a noise in a different reality, but he ignored it as he pulsed once at him, insisting that he come and see. Sunstreaker relented, though still incredibly cautiously, dropping his orbit with his twin nearer and nearer until their fields touched, and he could _sense_ the sparkling just as well as Sideswipe could.

Sideswipe was prepared to pull back and hide the sparkling if it became alarmed by the proximity of someone new. But, strangely, the new-spark did little. It was too young to do more than simply observe Sunstreaker in return, coming to no conclusions, simply _watching_ and waiting to see what he would do. When the answer was nothing, Sideswipe felt it _nuzzling_ into the side of his spark, seeking a quick pulse of comfort which it immediately received…

Then briefly pressed itself into Sunstreaker’s field, _nuzzling_ him in a similar way.

Both twins startled. Sunstreaker froze, terrified, while Sideswipe swept forward and pulled his sparkling back in until it was safely tucked into his field once more. Yet the sparkling showed no distress, instead completing the motion as if Sideswipe had been Sunstreaker, then settling and doing not much of anything but observing what the two much-bigger sparks were doing.

There was a hesitant, worried pulse from Sunstreaker, his entire attention fixated on the little spark.

It was Sideswipe who figured it out first. The realization broke his concentration completely, and he found himself back in his frame, Sunstreaker’s optics refreshing several times in front of him as his twin reset the sensors. 

“...Sunny,” Sideswipe breathed. “Sunny, it doesn’t see a difference between us.”

Air heaved out of Sunstreaker’s vents as his jaw slid open. Sideswipe’s, meanwhile, threatened to break the edges of his faceplates.

The mat shifted as he bounced up and down on top of it, unable to control himself. He couldn’t help but broadcast _encouragement_ at the new-spark, pleased with what it had done, but the sparkling didn’t know _why_ it was being praised and didn’t give him any sort of reply, not even a movement.

“It doesn’t see a difference between us! That is so cool!”

“It’s _weird,”_ Sunstreaker scowled. “It tried to latch onto me.”

“You fragger, don’t pretend you’re not excited too. The bond’s wide open, I can feel it. Sunny, we’re split-sparks, from the same spark, so it thinks that you’re just an extension of me!!”

“...Well...it’s not wrong…”

Sunstreaker pointed directly at Sideswipe’s chestplate, and spoke right at it.

“You better not try to jump carriers, you little scraplet. That is the _last_ thing we need.”

“I-I don’t think it’ll do that.” The next stage of Sideswipe’s excitement was manifesting in wiggles. “I mean, it actually does _exist_ in my spark chamber, so it can’t make a jump. But, this is great! It recognizes you! It’s never met you but it...Oh Primus, we’ve got to tell Ratchet!”

Slowly, the wiggles were descending into shaking instead. He was still smiling, he felt it pulling at his faceplates, but he felt his shoulders drooping at the same time. Weariness began to take hold of him, and he bowed his head.

“...Sunny...this whole thing, with me carrying, and I’m a split-spark...Ratchet’s dealt with lots of carriers before, but what if there’s something special that I should be doing?! I don’t know what to tell him to look for. I don’t know what to tell him to look for if I was _normal.”_

Sunstreaker was suddenly much closer to him. “Sideswipe--”

“Sunny, I’m scared. I’m scared that I’m not going to be a good carrier. Ratchet was doubting me, and Prowl and I weren’t preparing for _me_ to be the carrier, and what if we need to do something more than just leave our bond flooded open?! What if we’re damaging it by leaving it open?!”

“Sideswipe!”

“I’m not good enough to do this Sunny! _I think this whole thing is gross and weird!_ Yeah, it’s the sparkling me and Prowl wanted, but I wasn’t ready to do it like this--”

He was feeling the pulses from Sunstreaker meant to calm him down. But in a flash the yellow paintjob in front of him had been replaced.

He saw a white one instead.

He still felt the pulses, but they were weaker, a different form and a different _voice,_ but no less loving. Arms pulled him in tight and Sideswipe rested his helm against another’s as he returned the hug and grit his dentals.

“...Fraggit all, I’m being weak.”

“ _Na._ You’re not,” Prowl said directly into his audial. His doorwings fanned back and forth gently, as if trying to cool him off. “You’re worried. This is an unusual carriage. You’re not weak at all for being concerned.”

“I don’t know _how_ to feel,” he admitted, his optics lifting over Prowl’s shoulder and looking at where Sunstreaker had slid aside, unwilling to leave his twin even with his mate returned. “I’m all sorts of excited and disgusted and intrigued and scared. I don’t want to frag this up.”

“If you are this concerned about our sparkling, then I have no doubt that you’ll do everything in your power to protect it and care for it. It’s going to be fine, Sideswipe. I promise you, it will be.”

It helped. A little.

Sideswipe let himself slip enough that he could rest his weight on his smaller mate, still under the watchful optic of his twin. He allowed himself to be embraced, losing himself in the things Prowl was murmuring into his audial, telling him of all the things he had to look forward to and how he and his twin and the tribe would be there to help.

It was enough for him to calm the sparkling, disturbed by his own worries, and soothe it back to where it continued to grow safely tucked in at his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly 100% of my readers think that Sideswipe is carrying Smokescreen.
> 
> Nearly 100% of my readers are incorrect. ;3


	7. Earned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to BalloonArcade and oly-chic for helping me proofread!

Chapter 7: Earned

“I don’t see what everybody’s so worked up about.” Hot Rod picked at the shavings of Minotoron fur that he’d been tasked to clean and separate into a second bowl. “He’s carrying a new-spark. So what?”

He scowled further when all the adult mechs in the tent just grinned at him, some wider than others.

Since they’d returned from the healers’ tent, Sideswipe had been resting, still coming to terms that _he_ would be the one carrying the sparkling. Despite most of the camp making the final preparations for half of them to move the Minotoron herd, no one had minded that he needed some time to learn how to ventilate again, nor that the mechs closest to him had stopped as well to offer support. 

“What?” Hot Rod looked around at each of the adults, first Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, then Prowl and Springer. “What?!”

“It was very hard for Prowl and Sideswipe to begin to carry a new spark, Hot Rod,” Springer said.

The youngling flicked out a piece of crystal that had gotten entangled in a knot of fur. 

“Why?” Hot Rod grumbled. “All they’ve got to do is go for a recharge on their mat, jump on each other, and ignite a--”

He was drowned out by dual squawks from both Sunstreaker and Prowl. Sideswipe had no idea which one of them had objected first, but they both had jumped straight up, Prowl’s doorwings raised high and quivering.

“Who told you that?!” Sunstreaker roared at Hot Rod, his optics pale.

“I figured it out from you and Springer!”

“ _What?!”_

The situation was made even worse by Springer hooting with laughter, thinking that this was the funniest thing that his youngling had ever said and not the least bit appalled. Prowl and Sunstreaker turned on him instead.

“That is _not_ appropriate for someone his age to be talking about--” Prowl shouted.

“You fragging son of a glitch, he’s too young to have any _idea_ about what--” Sunstreaker added.

“--sensitive topics, which will be explained to him when he is more mature but until then--”

“--we do in a berth, and you can wipe that stupid grin right off your face because I am _not_ explaining to him why we--”

Springer held up his hands. “He sees Minotoron’s doing it all time! You don’t think that he knows what goes on between two mechs that really like each other?!”

Sunstreaker’s vents huffed so loud that they squeaked at the end, and he jabbed his finger down at Springer’s chestplate. “ _Are you comparing us to a couple of rutting Minotorons?!”_

Seated some ways away on a pillow and enjoying that madness unfolding in front of him, Sideswipe guffawed, _humor_ escaping him and dripping down both bonds. Neither were in the mood to accept it, though the sparkling glimmered happily from its little niche, settled and content.

His snickering grew into full-on laughter when Springer’s faceplates twisted up, the conflict obvious that he knew that he _shouldn’t_ say something but wanted to anyway. Eventually the green mech lost the battle with himself, and opened his mouth.

“But it’s your favorite position!”

“....YOU SON OF A--”

Sideswipe _hooted_ at the same time that he shielded his sparkling from the _outrage_ exploding out from his twin.

While the adults were distracted, and Springer tried desperately to appease his offended mate, Hot Rod paused in thought, a piece of fur held between two fingers. After some consideration, he shoved the two bowls and the rest of the tangled fur aside, and worked his way past the arguing mechs to where Sideswipe was sitting.

The red mech cooled his laughter and raised both of his optic ridges as Hot Rod plopped himself down in his lap. The youngling put the side of his orange helm on his chestplate, and the metal touched with a soft clink as he curled up and made himself comfortable.

Ooo--kay.

“Uh... hi?” Sideswipe cocked his helm to the side.

“Hi,” Hot Rod mumbled.

“Whatcha doing, buddy?”

The youngling shut off his optics briefly, his faceplates serious and concentrating. After about a breem he opened them again, and grinned as he squirmed his way back up.

“It says ‘hi’ too,” he declared.

“... Wait.” Sideswipe refreshed his optics several times. “What does?”

Hot Rod huffed through his vents as he left his lap and returned to the bowls and his chore. “The new spark. Duh.”

The breakfast in Sideswipe’s tank did a flip. His spark quivered for a moment, then pressed at the new-spark, checking on it, but there was little to report from it other than that it was still _there,_ still orbiting him and sitting happily on his bond with Prowl.

“Wait a breem. Hold up.” Sideswipe reached out to grab Hot Rod. “How did you...GAH!!”

Feet scrambled across the tent floor. This time Sideswipe almost fell over backwards as Springer suddenly appeared before him and tried to put his audial down on Sideswipe’s chestplate in the same way as the youngling had just done.

There was quite a difference between a youngling sitting in Sideswipe’s lap and a full-size mech shoving himself down for a listen at the new spark. Sideswipe squawked as he threw his arms back to catch himself.

Sunstreaker all but teleported next to Springer and shoved him away from his twin, engine hissing as he placed himself as a wall between them. 

“What the _frag,_ Springer?!” he roared, his plating puffed out defensively.

The green mech made a face at him. “I wanted to listen to the new spark too! What’s wrong with that?!”

“You don’t just put your helm down on random mechs’ chestplates!”

“He’s not a random mech, he’s _Sideswipe,_ ” Springer enunciated as if that explained anything. “And I already knew that he was carrying!”

“This new carrier still has a personal bubble, thanks!” Sideswipe snapped at him. He scowled as Prowl ambled his way to his side and sat down on the pillow next to him while Sunstreaker went back to yelling at Springer. “What the slag was that all about?!,” he asked his own mate. “Do you mechs really think you can listen to a new spark?”

Prowl refreshed his optics at him. “... Not as strongly as you or I can to our own sparkling. But... yes. _Sa.”_

“That’s slag.”

He kept to himself, for the moment, that there was one other mech in the tent that could _‘hear’_ the sparkling better than Prowl. And right now Springer was doing his best to calm him down. Sunstreaker wouldn’t have it though, and instead huffed and picked up Hot Rod’s two bowls, the chore only half-done.

“We’ve still got to pack up.” Sunstreaker declared

“I just wanted to hear what his sparkling’s voice was--”

“We need to pack up and get you _far_ from my twin!”

_/Bye, Sunny./_

_/Bye./_ Sunstreaker shouldered the tent flap aside, holding it open just long enough for Hot Rod to scurry under it too. It fell back into place right in Springer’s face, and his engine growled before he threw it aside and stormed after his mate and youngling.

Sideswipe _snickered_ along the bond, then withheld a wince as Sunstreaker’s answer was the astral version of smacking him upside the head.

_/And don’t you dare narrow this./_

The tent rang with the sudden absence of raised voices. The two mates took a moment longer to breathe, before Prowl grunted as he got up again.

 _/We can’t keep it open forever,/_ Sideswipe complained as Prowl took Sunstreaker’s cue and began to pack their belongings into one of the chests as well. _/I love you and all, but you know that we’ll start chewing holes in each other’s helms after too long./_

_/Then learn how to shut up./_

_/For my entire carriage?! You don’t want to hear my stream of consciousness for… however long this takes?!/_

_/... Let’s not test narrowing it until the sparkling is stronger, okay?/_

_/Fair enough,/_ Sideswipe relented. _/But that means that you can’t interface until that happens. I do_ not _need to feel your end of things when you’re taking it like a minotoron from Springer’s--/_

_/FINE./_

There was a ‘warble’ on the bond. This would have been the time that Sunstreaker snapped it closed in annoyance. But though he ‘touched’ it, he didn’t allow himself to manipulate it any further.

Primus. They were going to be driven insane in less than a deca-cycle.

“Are you feeling well enough to help me pack?” Prowl asked, bundling up his scrolls into a spare blanket to keep them from tearing during the journey.

“Actually... yeah. _Sa,_ I feel alright. Physically, anyway.” 

The white mech pulled out several pins that kept his scroll shelf together. The pieces loosened, and he picked them up one-by-one. “And mentally?”

“Give me a few orns to figure that one out. Pit, give me this whole _carriage_ to decide how I feel about it.” 

Though weaker than what Sunstreaker was projecting, even if it was in the background now, the wave of _assurance_ and _love_ filtering down through the bond made the corners of Sideswipe’s mouth perk up. His spark tried to settle and bask in it, eventually calming, and at the same time re-directing some of the other mech’s _love_ to the smaller spark cuddled up against his field.

The sparkling liked that.

“You’re going to be fine.” As Prowl passed where Sideswipe was standing, he brushed his fingertips along his mate’s arm. “I promise that you will. You’re wiser than you think you are.”

“I’m not wise, I’m _clever._ Two very different things.”

Standing, he snuck a kiss as Prowl passed him again, then followed him to help collect the rest of the pieces of the shelf, and then everything else in their tent that would need to be packed away until they arrived at the new camp. As he did, a thought occurred to him.

His fingertips paused over one of the canisters of extra rations.

_/Suuunnny./_

_Irritation_ hissed its way down the bond, unfiltered with it still being wide open. _/Yeah?/_

_/I HAVE to interface with Prowl at some point./_

_/...Oh,_ frag me. _/_

_/Nope, you still don’t get to frag! You’re not the one who needs the nanites./_

The barrage of swears that he ‘heard’ in his own spark might have been funnier if he could filter them _just_ slightly. It felt like Sunstreaker was yelling them right into his audial.

 _/Stop teaching my sparkling how to swear!!/_

_/Like it’s not going to learn that slag from you./_

_/... Primus, this kid’s going to be so messed up./_

_/Messed up, but with great vocabulary./_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The amassment of mechs rivaled that of when the Autobots had first come to Iacon. It had been a long time since the regularly-mobile tribe had found cause to move a great distance again, and with it came back the swirls of fear of an unknown future, and an anticipating longing for the adventure to come. Sideswipe found himself worked up and ready to go, and pointed his anxiety in a worthwhile direction by helping those who were still struggling to pack, along with the rest of the _yoska._

The _mutterings_ along the bond, though, were going to drive him insane.

“For Primus’s sake, will you stop worrying about your paints?!” he snapped at Sunstreaker as he and his twin tied down the rest of the contents on the cart they and several other tents were sharing. “Springer sealed the tops with wax. I could flip this fragging thing upside down and they wouldn’t spill!”

Sunstreaker froze, fingers paused mid-knot around one of the ropes. “I didn’t tell you that he used wax.”

“I know because you keep repeating it to your slagging self!” One black finger poked the side of his helm hard. “Wide-open bond, remember?!”

The hand was smacked away. “And _you_ can stop thinking about the next time that you’re gonna stick your spike in Prowl!”

“I wasn’t--OW!!”

Sunstreaker pulled back before Sideswipe could flick him likewise in retort. “Wide. Open. Bond.”

“I wasn’t even thinking about that! Did you forget which one of us is doing the carrying?!”

“Then what in the _Pit_ are you going on about in your cortex?!” Sunstreaker snapped.

“Maybe I want to do _other_ things to Prowl.” Sideswipe put his fists on his hips and wriggled them. “Maybe if putting my spike in him is a bad idea right now, I could instead get him to kneel down and--”

“UGH!!” Giving up on the rope, Sunstreaker threw it away and took several waddling steps away from the cart as he threw his palms over his optics. “It’s in my processor, _it’s in my processor,_ I hate you Sideswipe…”

But Sideswipe had little time to gloat.

His face twisted up in a similar pain, and he howled as he aggressively scrubbed the heels of his palms over his face.

“OH PRIMUS!! You and Springer do _not_ do that! Does he even... how would he even _know_ how to--”

“I taught him!”

“In exchange for how to take it like a Minotoron?! Oh for Primu’s sake, _MY SPARKLING IS PROBABLY WATCHING ALL OF THIS YOU SON OF A GLITCH!! STOP!!”_

It was to this that Prowl came across them, the twins swearing at each other as they rubbed and clawed at their helms. Sideswipe was rolling back and forth along the ground by now, while Sunstreaker wailed about who had started it all and tried to kick him.

The white mech crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground. “... I hope that you two know that we have no time left to prepare. I’ve already sent Moonracer and Chromia to scout the path to Luna-1.”

“ _Prowl!”_ Sideswipe stared at his mate upside-down from his position on the ground. “Prowl, tell Sunny to stop teaching our not-even-emerged sparkling dirty slag!”

“Tell your _mate_ to keep his Primus-forsaken thoughts to himself!”

“You started it!”

“No, _you_ started it!”

“ _You_ made it ten times worse!”

Prowl’s hand pinched the bridge on his nose. “Are you two going to be like this for Sideswipe’s entire carriage? He’s barely two orns in. We have more than half a vorn left to go.”

“Only if he can’t figure out how to keep his thoughts on _his_ side of the bond!” Sunstreaker cut his twin off before he could answer. 

“How can I?! With our bond this wide open, it’s like you’re always talking in the back of my head!”

Prowl’s doorwings slowly waved back and forth. “... Is _that_ why Sideswipe’s been so agitated?”

“It is _exactly_ why _Sideswipe’s_ been so agitated,” Sideswipe snarled, “besides suddenly becoming a carrier and being pretty sure that he’s not going to be any good at it!”

“You will be fine,” Prowl automatically reassured him, then glanced between the twins as he addressed them both. “Can’t you narrow the bond just a little?”

“No.” Sunstreaker shook his head. “Not worth the risk.”

“Not even if I go crazy?” Sideswipe grimaced. “ _I’m_ the one who’s carrying, not you!”

“We just talked about this yesterday!”

“ _Sa,_ and I think my helm might pop if I have to listen to you drone on and on about your paints for another orn!”

“What if narrowing the bond ends up strangling and killing the sparkling?!”

Sideswipe would have snapped back if it wasn’t for the pure, unadulterated fear that zoomed down through the twins’ bond. It washed over the sparkling on it’s way through, and the poor thing curled up into its enclave in Sideswipe’s field. His own spark immediately cradled it, assuring it that it was in no danger.

It did not escape him at how _naturally_ his spark wanted to defend and protect this new life building within his core. The same desire must have emanated all the way to Sunstreaker.

Or, far more likely, he knew that the pain of losing this sparkling when they could have knowingly done something to prevent it would break their sparks.

But…

“There’s got to be a point sooner where we can _try,_ Sunny,” he implored. “Do you really want to try to go through this whole carriage like this without, you know, trying to kill each other? Because I guarantee you, if we don’t get a chance to narrow it at all, I’m going to have to try to raise this sparkling from inside the healers’ tent.”

Another wave of _fear,_ coupled this time with further _anxiety._ As Sideswipe shielded his sparkling from it, Sunstreaker’s faceplates tightened.

“... I’m not going to be _weak_ and risk it dying,” Sunstreaker said slowly. “Maybe... maybe later. When it’s stronger.”

“Maybe when we get to Luna-1?”

“Maybe. But not now. Definitely not now.”

“Definitely not now,” Sideswipe echoed in agreement, even as his tanks sank, and he knew that the feeling was broadcasting to his twin but didn’t care to address it. “It’s too small to thrive next to only half of a spark. But later on, when it gets stronger, even if that’s just in a few more orns. Okay?”

“... Okay.”

The reminder that the sparkling had come this far with Sideswipe only being able to offer _half_ when a _whole_ was needed reminded him again the miracle of it’s ignition. And the miracle that it had kept surviving, and that it was doing better than barely clinging to life.

... Hopefully.

He’d never carried before, and nobody back in the city of Kaon had gone over with him what carrying would be like. How was he supposed to know if the sparkling shivering away from a _feeling_ it didn’t like was something more, and it was getting ready to deteriorate and evaporate?!

... But that was what Prowl was there for. And Ratchet.

And the rest of the tribe.

And Sunstreaker would warn him if he felt an _iota_ of deterioration along their bond.

“Right.” Blowing air out of his vents and swinging his arms as he built himself back to being the unflappable, lackadaisical Sideswipe, he turned back to Prowl. “So, we’re out of time, you said? No more prep work?”

The white mech nodded. _“Sa._ It’s time to say goodbye.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The choice to join the portion of the Autobots that would be setting up a Minotoron camp at the base of Luna-1 was entirely voluntary. Optimus would allow no one to be coerced to go if they didn’t want to; the journey to Iacon had been unforgiving, and many mechs and femmes wanted nothing more than to settle down in their new homes.

That being said, a great many more were ready to return to a more nomadic way of life, or to escape the towering walls that encompassed Iacon, or to simply secure their tribe’s future by ensuring that their livelihoods, their Minotorons, were well taken care of. Sideswipe had been shocked by the number of carts and wagons being assembled in what was a relatively short and small migration to the Autobots

“We’ll be fine,” Perceptor told him as he hugged the other former city-mech. “We have more than enough space and energon, and some of the weaker Minotorons will stay behind, and I have plenty of work to do with them and at the lab and with Backburn and--”

“Percy.” Sideswipe grinned as he patted the mech’s back, signaling him to let go. “You’re sounding like Bluestreak.”

“I am? My apologies. I just… ”

For once, unable to form the word that he wanted, Perceptor wiggled his fingers in the air before him, then flopped his arms back down at his sides with a grunt, the folds of his robe flapping down with him. It was plenty enough for Sideswipe to understand.

“I gotcha, buddy. I’ll miss you too.”

“As will I,” Drift added, stepping up to embrace his fellow _yoska,_ careful of where Backburn was being balanced on one of his arms. “Are you certain that you won’t stay? Being a new carrier and all--”

“Prowl’s going to be leading the advance camp. I couldn’t stay here, away from him, any more than you could leave Perceptor here alone.”

“True enough,” Drift agreed, letting him go with one last hard pat on his shoulder. “True enough.”

Not understanding what the gathering was about, Backburn’s blue optics swept back and forth, taking in so many mechs saying their goodbyes to one another. He made an uncertain noise at Drift, and the white mech hefted him up to let him ride on his shoulders. The sparkling instantly cheered as he clung to his helm and looked _above_ all of the other adult mechs.

Many of the _yoska_ had opted to go along to the advance camp, knowing that it would be the front lines if the Decepticons were able to regather their forces and attack again in the next few vorns. A smaller group was to stay behind and help to guard and care for Iacon. A few of them looked ready to change their minds and follow their friends on their journey back through the mountain paths, but there was no more time left to pack and redistribute supplies, so it was with heavy sparks that they hugged their brethren until they could meet again.

“It’s not like we’re never gonna see ya’ll ever again,” Ironhide huffed at Prowl, his new axe hefted over one shoulder. “Ya’ll be a two-orn walk ‘way from us, one if ya’ll were running. We’re going to have patrols moving back-an’-forth between us all the time, an’ I’ll send refresher _yoska_ in when some o’ yours need a break to come back home.”

“It’s still an extended separation,” Prowl countered. “The advance camp will need to operate as if it were its own tribe, as if we were all the Autobots who survived the Decepticon attack. As if we had decided to settle in a valley that was far easier to defend than the open plains.”

“... And as if ya’ll had found a new home at Luna-I instead o’ Iacon?” Ironhide asked with a raised optic ridge.

“Exactly.” The corner of Prowl’s mouth turned up slyly. “You know me all too well, _Boba.”_

Sideswipe paused in where he’d been walking over to meet his mate. Sunstreaker had been within earshot too, and a similar _confusion_ echoed down the bond.

_/Boba?/_

_/Sideswipe, what does_ Boba _mean?/_

_/I...don’t know. I swear that I’ve heard it before. My translation patch isn’t coming up with anything./_

Whatever it meant, Ironhide’s stance became far more affectionate as he hugged Prowl’s shoulders with one arm, patting him when he was done. “Yer gonna do just fine, Prowl.”

“I hadn’t doubted that I would,” Prowl replied confidently, lifting his head as he stepped towards Sideswipe instead. 

The two mates gripped hands as they joined the rest of the group heading to one side, the exchanges winding down as they went to say their goodbyes to one final mech.

More than a vorn ago, when Sideswipe had first arrived at the Autobot camp, he’d been brought into their presence of their chief and watched as the rest of his group had bowed in deep respect to him, even Perceptor. Sideswipe had not. No one made him do so. He had no reason to respect the Prime, _any_ Prime for that matter, and he was not going to pretend that this unknown mech had an ounce of authority over him.

Now he held the same respect for their Prime as the rest of the _yoska_ did. 

And this time, following his and Prowl’s example, were more than just a handful of mechs.

Armor and weapons clattered as the entire team dedicating themselves to the ambitious plan bowed to Optimus Prime, their helms falling towards him in a long wave, until Sideswipe couldn’t see those in the far back. On either side of them stood those who would remain, and they remained quiet, awed by the display of dedication that these mechs and femmes were showing as they risked themselves by separating themselves from their tribe.

Despite his relatively short time with them, Sideswipe felt his spark deeply clench as he abruptly realized the gravity of what he was doing. Kaon had always droned on for the benefit of the whole, but the tribe was motivated by the love and dedication they had towards one another, their _family._ As a mercenary, Sideswipe had been compelled to fight for the credits, and sometimes for the reputation. Here, with the Autobots? He was willing to put his life on the line for mechs he truly cared about.

Sideswipe squeezed his fingers into Prowl’s, and felt a return squeeze.

The new-spark wiggled next to his own spark once before settling. His free hand reflexively touched his chestplate, as if he could reach into himself and cradle the un-emerged sparkling.

He kept his head down until he heard Optimus step forward, the big mech’s footsteps loud enough to cue him to raise his helm. The wave slipped through the group once again as they straightened up again, one by one.

The Prime’s voice boomed over them, not as a shout, yet somehow loud enough for them all to hear. “You will not be far from home, but far enough that you will be missed every orn. If you should ever wish to return to Iacon, you will be welcomed back with open arms, for you are and always shall be _Autobots._ No distance will ever change that.”

He raised his hands and his voice, _now_ shouting, his voice reverberating off the far walls of the destroyed downtown city.

“We have fulfilled the prophecy and found our city once more, Autobots! Now it is up to you to protect both it and our way of life! Watch each other’s backs and protect one another, and make me as proud of you all as I was the day that we passed through the gates of Iacon!”

There was a roar of approval from the tribe. Fists and weapons were pumped into the air as shouts and howls and hoots filled their audials. Prowl thrust his staff up over his head as he flared his doorwings and let out a long howl, while Sideswipe yanked his sword out of its oiled sheath and waved it around, snarling out a warcry.

Back in Kaon, ‘fitting in’ meant feeling like a cog in the machine. The Public Service Announcements and the bored regurgitations of Enforcers and guards and politicians had told the twins that they had to work towards lifting their city into the future, not just for their own personal gain. They’d been told this as they fought for their lives in the Pit, as they’d scrapped together credits for fuel, as they beat off threats to Sentinel Prime and hunted down his targets.

Nothing of that compared to the _pride_ that swelled through their bond as their voices added to the cacophony roaring through the air around their audials, the whoops and shouts and howls of their friends and of their _family_ reinforcing how the Autobots were _one_ in not just the realm of the All-Spark.

Sideswipe found himself jumping up and down on his feet, one hand still gripping Prowl’s, his spark spinning and whirling, knowing that not too far away Sunstreaker was doing the same next to Springer and Hot Rod.

Caught up in the excitement just as much as the rest of them, Optimus swung out his axe and raised it above him. The thrill of having the entire tribe together, excited and jubilant and ready to face whatever the future was about to throw at them next, continued on for several more breems and then long after the first who had run out of air in their systems had stopped cheering. 

Some of it continued even as the first few groups of those heading out of Iacon turned to leave.

But Optimus was not done. Sheathing his weapon again, he gestured for Prowl.

Sideswipe’s optic ridges raised up, but he let go of his mate’s hand, allowing him to step forward on his own. It didn’t take Prowl long to cross the distance, and when he did he and Optimus stood ped-to-ped, standing tall to one another, the corners of Optimus’s optics grinning just over the top of his mask.

He smacked his hands down on Prowl’s shoulders and gripped him. “I look forward to hearing good news from you soon once your portion of the tribe is settled. Lead the advance camp with pride. I know that I’m putting it in good hands.”

“I won’t let you down.”

Their stances changed as they embraced once, smacking their fists on each other’s back the way that _yoska_ did formally, before Prowl took two steps back, and bowed one more time. 

Sideswipe wasn’t sure if he should bow again as well. A few mechs that would be helping to lead the advance camp were as well; Ratchet, Jazz, and Hound, all three who had stepped up to the front while others meandered to watch or left to get to their wagons. It struck him that this _was_ the ceremony of Optimus officially handing the ultimate leadership of the advance camp to Prowl. And yet... it had been so short, without the pomp he would have expected if Sentinel had announced a new governorship in Kaon.

There were no parades. There were no interruptions of all communications to watch the appointment on the broadcast networks. There was no media fever to find out about this new mech or femme who now wielded a new power over the city.

The tribe already knew Prowl. They knew his history with them, how he worked, how he lead, and his dedication to the Autobots. 

The brief formality was only to commend Prowl as an _individual._ He had already been trusted to help lead the tribe for a long time. He was congratulated, and now he could do even better if the tribe was not forced to stop to praise him, instead strengthening their bonds towards _each other_ and then getting back to work.

That fluid acknowledgement reminded Sideswipe yet again why he felt more at _home_ after just over a vorn of being with the Autobots, than after spending most of his life in Kaon.

As Prowl turned back towards his mate, Sideswipe smirked at him before bowing with the elegance reserved for acknowledging nobility, full of hand-waving and bending over awkwardly. His efforts got him a _snort_ and a shot of both _confusion_ and _humor_ across their bond.

“Stop it,” Prowl huffed as he tugged him stand up straight, then grabbed his hand as they headed towards their own wagon.

“So, do I get a new status or something if you’re now leading nearly a third of the tribe on your own, and I’m your mate?”

“What?” Prowl cocked his head to the side, appalled. “ _Na._ You are a _yoska,_ and other mechs do trust the decisions you make. But you got there on your own merits, not from being my mate.”

“Not what I meant at all, but thank you.”

 _Love_ rocketed up and down their bond from both of them, even though Prowl still seemed baffled as to what Sideswipe was referring to. They squeezed down on each other’s fingers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Minotorons couldn’t have cared less about all the noise that the tribe was making a moment ago. They were soon being herded back out through the gates of Iacon, braying and mooing and lowering their heads as they prepared for what they must have assumed was another tough journey back through the mountains and their familiar grazing pastures after a vorn of adventures in a far-away land. Luckily for them the base of Luna-1 would be only a two-orn march away, and from there they would have plenty of crystals to feed on as they were rotated around the base of the moon-turned-mountain.

The air around those going with the Minotorons had turned more bittersweet as Trailbreaker waved from the top of the wall and shut the gates behind them, sealing in the two-thirds of the Autobots that would stay behind in the safety of their ‘city.’ All of the minibots were staying, their spelunking skills far more useful in Iacon than Luna-1, and Sideswipe and Hound noticed that Bluestreak was refusing to look back at the mechs who had perched themselves on the top of the walls to watch their friends depart.

“Blue, if you want to go back, we’ve got plenty of herders and younglings who’re going to help me with the Minotorons,” Hound said, bumping the other mech’s shoulder. “Nobody’ll think any less of you.”

Bluestreak’s doorwings stayed drooped. “ _Na._ I’m okay.”

“C’mon, Bluestreak.” Jogging over to the gray mech’s other side, Sideswipe nudged him with his elbow, sandwiching him between himself and Hound. “You look like you want to curl up and turn into a sewer rust-slug.”

“... A _what?”_

“A city... thing. Nevermind. Anyway, you look as blue as your name. What’s up?”

“I just... he never noticed me.” Letting out one long, hard vent, rubbed his hands along the sides of his helm. “I tried everything to get him to notice me. I tried going through the tunnels and I couldn’t do that anymore because my doorwings kept getting caught, so I tried running supplies from the camp to the tunnels so that none of them would have to keep walking all that way, but there’s plenty of energon underground so they didn’t need to come back up for orns at a time, and whenever he was in camp he was more interested in staying with his own group of friends instead of listening to--”

“Aw, Blue.” Frowning, Hound put a hand on his friend’s shoulder and kept it there. “I’m sorry. I know that you did your best.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Sideswipe lifted his head back. “Who’re you talking about?! Who did Bluestreak have a crush on?!”

“Bumblebee,” both Bluestreak and Hound said at the same time.

“Bumblebee?!” His _shock_ registered to both Prowl and Sunstreaker, the first of whom sent back a weaker pulse of _concern,_ while the second called out along their bond.

_/What about Bumblebee? I thought he stayed back in Iacon with the rest of the minis./_

_/Exactly!/_ Sideswipe replied as Hound kept talking to a distraught Bluestreak as they walked alongside the wagons. _/Did you know that Bluestreak had a crush on Bumblebee?!/_

_/Didn’t you?!/_

_/... No?/_

_/It’s all he ever fragging talked about! By Primus, Sideswipe, you are dense./_

_/Ex-CUSE me if I was having problems of my own for the past deca-cycles!/_

_/Who gives a frag about minibots anyway?/_

_/You haven’t seen them get all feral yet, have you?/_

_/They WHAT./_

The _alarm_ that rang out from Sunstreaker’s spark nearly made Sideswipe bust out loud, though he managed to keep it contained for Bluestreak’s sake. Last thing the poor mech needed was for him to think that Sideswipe was laughing at _him._

A moment later, though, that _alarm_ came back again.

And this time, it was from Prowl as well.

The path had been sloping down for some time, and at the front of it from around a corner came a howl that was a call for an alert. As two forms came running up the hill, Hound rushed forward with several other yoska, spreading their arms and shouting as they tried to stop the herd from moving towards danger. Several of the Minotorons saw them and stopped, the ones behind them braying as they bonked into the other creatures and came to a halt as well.

As Hound pulled out his lasso and moved to stop the ones at the very front, Moonracer and Chromia jumped over the last of the boulders and crystals in their way and skirted around the edge of the herd. Upon seeing them Prowl rushed out, and they raced right up to him, venting hard as they skidded to a stop and doubled over.

“What happened?!”

Moonracer panted. “We were... scouting ahead… ” 

“And we saw a haze from cooking fires coming from the valley in front of Luna-1.” Chromia pointed behind her, back down the path, and took a moment to swallow down some air to cool her systems. “We ran back here to stop you as soon as we saw them.”

Prowl’s doorwings stiffened upright. “Saw what?” Several of the other _yoska_ were gathering around him, concerned for why the tribe had abruptly stopped. “What did you see?”

Moonracer’s vents were still overclocking, and she slumped down to the ground. “Tents. Lots of them. Enough for an entire tribe.”

Chromia gulped and nodded. “They’ve put themselves in two groups on either side of the path coming down the mountain.”

The _alarm_ coming down the bond was enough to make Sideswipe’s spark twist, even as Prowl somehow managed to keep his voice even. “You’re certain?” 

“ _Sa._ They’re waiting to hit us from both sides as soon as we’re past the cliffs and on an open field.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, the "Minotoron Position?" Totally BalloonArcade's fault. Blame her.


	8. Pen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA HEY, I'm not dead! Sorry about the lack of updates and responses to all your awesome comments! Life has been...life.
> 
> I'll be starting a new job in the next several weeks. Let's see how that affects my writing schedule before I promise any future scheduling.

After scratching one more line through the dirt, Prowl pulled his hand back and shook it out, then crouched down so that all the optics gathered around his drawing could see it. Mechs and femmes knelt or squatted around it shoulder-to-shoulder in an unbroken circle, and more peeked over helms and around arms to try to see what their leader’s plan was. Those who had no chance of seeing or hearing what was going on without disrupting Prowl’s order to be _quiet_ and not give away their position to the encampment at the foot of the mountain were instead tending to the Minotoron herd, the creatures shuffling around in agitation at being stopped at a place with no crystals to graze on.

“Alright. So this is our main route down to the fields below Luna-1 is right here.” Prowl pointed to the thickest line curving its way down through the notches indicating the steep hills and cliffs, and eventually opened up into the long valley that Luna-1 had flattened into the planet when it had crashed into Cybertron eons ago. “This is the _only_ route that the Minotorons can come down. We do have some side-paths,” he pointed to thinner lines branching away from the main road, some finding their own way down to the field, some weaving and zipping right back into the main road at different locations, “but the Minotorons can’t use them. Not without us guiding them one-by-one.”

On the other side of the circle, from where he was kneeling next to Sunstreaker, Springer grunted. “That would take several orns, at least.”

“And the other camp will have long since realized that we’re nearby by the time it gets dark tonight and we set up fires,” Prowl agreed. “We must get down to the field _today_ if we are going to use surprise to our advantage. We still have half of an orn left before sunset. Chromia, where did you see the trap being set up?”

A light blue hand picked up four pebbles and placed them down on either side of the mouth of the main road and the field, two on each side. “Here and here. They’re lining the cliffs on either side of the path. Moonracer and I just barely missed being spotted by them. They’re in a position where they could easily attack from _above_ us and we’d have no way to fight back. Their actual camp…”

She picked up a much larger stone, and set it down in the ‘field,’ much further away from the mouth of the road.

“...Is right here. It’s far enough away that we’d be able to see it as we were coming down the road, but _not_ the trap. We’d be looking straight at it and going to investigate it when the mechs on the sides and above us popped out.”

“And neither can we burst through the trap and rush the camp,” Prowl added. “The enemy would see us coming, deploy the warriors in the camp, and then we’d be trapped with them at our front, and the original trap at our rear. We’d be encircled and without a way to retreat. On top of that, if I were at the bottom of the hill and waiting, I’d also place mechs…”

He picked up several more pebbles, and placed them at all of the side-route entrances to the field.

“Here, here, and here. This would stop up from dispersing once the trap was sprung and trying to work our way around to hit the camp from the rear.”

The Autobots glared solemnly at the drawing, and the Primus-slagged rocks and pebbles representing the enemy blocking them on all fronts. For a long time no one said a word.

Sideswipe shifted around where he was squatted down next to his mate. He could _feel_ Prowl’s spark ill at ease, the white mech’s optics flickering as his processor worked hard at a solution.

He poked his elbow at Prowl’s arm. “Any chance we could surprise them with another Minotoron stampede?” 

A few of the Autobots around them chuckled, and several more groaned.

“ _Na.”_ Prowl’s voice was cold. His optics continued to flicker as he stared down at the drawing of the main road. “We lost too many of our Minotorons when we charged them against the Decepticons when taking Iacon last vorn. And the road will eventually open out into a field. The Minotorons will spread out in all directions and we’ll never be able to recover them all.”

Bluestreak popped up from where he’d been leaning on Hound’s back, looking over the green mech’s shoulder at the crude, finger-drawn map. “Maybe...maybe we should go back? We tell Optimus that we couldn’t get to the field--”

Prowl’s optics stopped flickering and instead _pierced_ at Bluestreak. “And what will that accomplish? We tell Optimus that we failed to set up the secondary camp easily, and meanwhile the enemy continues to strengthen their position?”

As the gray mech cowered back behind Hound, Sideswipe frowned and turned his attention inwards towards his bond with his mate. _/Hey, I know you’re really excited about being in charge of your own camp and all, but lay off Bluestreak, okay?/_ he said over the bond, staring directly at Prowl as he did.

The answer he received along the bond was _irritation,_ followed immediately by _remorse,_ and a gentler, warmer feeling that was Prowl’s best attempt when his concentration wasn’t on the apology. Prowl vented through his nose as he looked away from Bluestreak and back down at the drawing.

The sparkling wavered, _uncertain._ Sideswipe shushed it and resisted the urge to rub the top of his chestplate, right over his poncho.

_Irritation_ snapped down at him again, but it wasn’t from Prowl. In fact, it came down even _harder_ on Sideswipe through the twin-bond that was sore from being pulled wide open for several orns.

“Well, there’s _got_ to be some way down!” Sunstreaker growled. “There’s really no other way to the valley but the roads?! What about the tunnels that the scavengers were using?! Mech-animal tracks?!”

“We haven’t explored either of them thoroughly enough,” Hound mumbled. “We could end up hopelessly lost, and there’s no way that either the tunnels or mech-animal trails could get the Minotorons down to the field safely.”

“Why do we even need them with us if we’re about to fight?!” Sunstreaker countered. “It’s not likely they’re going to do anything but give us away when they kick up all that dust--”

“Say again?”

Sunstreaker tuned to Prowl. “What?”

“Say that again? What did you say?”

“I said that the Minotorons are just going to kick up a slagload of dust and give away our location!”

Prowl refreshed his blue optics at the golden mech. 

They began flickering again. But this time, after a breem, he _smirked._

“You’re right. They do kick up a lot of dust, don’t they?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Despite the rope being tied securely around one of the largest boulders on the cliff, Springer gave the line several hard, aggressive tugs, grimacing at the knots as he made sure there was no slippage. “...Good. Shouldn’t take more than five mechs at a time, though,” he announced.

“Six, if they’re lightweight,” Prowl replied from where he was kneeling at the edge of the cliff and looking down at the ground far below.

“ _Five,”_ Springer snapped. “You are _not_ putting the Autobots in any more danger than you already are.”

“...Five, then,” Prowl muttered.

Next to his mate, Sideswipe leaned over the edge and let out a low whistle.

“And _that’s_ why Iacon’s been secure for so long. Make sure you’ve got all your weapons, mechs, because if you forget something, we’re not coming back up this way.”

Further down, Sunstreaker finished securing another line of rope and tossed the other end over the cliff. “And if these are too short, we’re not coming back to Iacon at all.”

“They’re long enough,” Prowl replied tersely, though he did glance down and double-check that there was some slack coiled on the ground below. “Go ahead and start descending, then head towards the rendezvous point. We have less of a chance of being spotted moving past the enemy if only a few of us are moving at a time.”

“Another reason to keep five mechs on the rope _at max!”_ Springer called out, though Prowl pointedly ignored him.

Only the able-bodied _yoska_ and several other Autobot volunteers were part of the team that would attempt to descend the cliffs and sneak around to the other side of the enemy base. Chromia and Moonracer had warned Prowl that if they’d estimated the number of tents correctly, the _yoska_ would be vastly outnumbered, but Prowl was willing to take the calculated risk anyway. If the Autobots could launch a surprise attack at the rear of the camp at dusk, the other mechs might be too shocked to put up a decent resistance, and with their camp taken, the enemy would break and scatter back down the mountains.

It was risky. But there were few other alternatives, and Prowl _refused_ to return to Iacon and tell Optimus that he’d failed in his first major command of an entire camp before they’d even set up.

Springer kept glaring at Prowl as the first group of Autobots carefully descended, gripping the ropes hand-over-hand and balancing their feet on the cliff as they climbed down. Prowl pointedly turned away from the green _yoska_ and instead focused his attention on where Bluestreak was standing to one side.

“Start moving the Minotorons about an joor before dusk. Make sure you kick up as much dust as possible and make the camp think that we’re still moving down towards their trap.”

“You got it.” Bluestreak waved at the _yoska_ waiting for their turn to climb down as he jogged back up the path. “Be careful!”

“Aren’t we always?!” Sideswipe shouted after him as the gray mech jogged away..

An _unease_ from Sunstreaker rumbled through Sideswipe’s spark. _/You should go with him./_

Sideswipe frowned. _/Why?! Carrying didn’t make me any less of a_ yoska. _I can still help./_

_/What happens to the new-spark if you get hurt?/_

_/My arm’s been ripped out enough times that I know that it doesn’t affect how my spark functions./_

_/What if you take a direct hit around your spark chamber?!/_

_/Then my spark would be extinguished too,/_ Sideswipe reminded his twin dryly. _/And then it wouldn’t matter if I was carrying or not, would it?/_

_/That’s not funny./_ An even thicker _dread_ flooded down through their open bond.

_/Sure it is! That’d be a Pit of a way to end all this work it took just to ignite this little fragger./_

_/I thought that you were going to stop cursing where your new-spark could hear./_

_/Fraggit all! I mean…_ slag! _I MEAN.../_

Sunstreaker snorted to cover up a laugh, which got Springer to look at him strangely. In the meantime Sideswipe tried to bury the anxiety that was building up in him now that Sunstreaker had stoked it.

What would happen if one of his major lines punctured and he started bleeding out? He’d survive, but would the sparkling?

...Would it matter? They _needed_ to get rid of the camp taking up the plains at the foot of Luna-1. He and Sunstreaker were two of the best warriors that the Autobots had. Dropping Sideswipe out of the battle would not only distract Sunstreaker and make him substantially worse, it also increased the chances that they’d _lose_ and be sent scrambling back to Iacon with an even smaller amount of _yoska_ to bear the next attack.

Prowl was right. They had to take this camp _tonight._

He took a deep vent in and out, steadying himself. The mech in front of him crawled down over the side of the cliff, one hand holding tight to the rope, and as he waited for the next space to open up Sideswipe put a hand over the front of his poncho as he turned his thoughts inward.

_/Hey, scraplet. Uh...you can hear me, right?/_

What he expected was a short pulse of acknowledgement, like what he would get from Prowl or Sunstreaker. But the sparkling didn’t understand even that rudimentary of a gesture yet. It stayed where it was, nestled tightly in his field, slowly orbiting him in a motion that felt just as soothing to Sideswipe as it probably did to the sparkling.

_/Huh. Well...listen, things are gonna get a little crazy tonight. And nobody stopping me from coming along, so I dunno how much you’re gonna_ feel _from everything that happens. Um…/_ His fingertips scratched at the material of the poncho. _/Just...let me know if you get scared, okay? I’ve gotta keep this tribe safe to keep_ you _safe, but let me know if its getting too much and I should back off. Okay?/_

Still no answer. If anything the new-spark felt like it was making itself even more cozy, liking the attention even if it didn’t understand what Sideswipe was telling it.

Sunstreaker stared at his twin from his place in another line. _/...Are you talking to it?/_

_/What?! I can’t check in with my own sparkling?! And stop eavesdropping on me, this is Carrier-And-Me Time./_

_/Carrier-And...Sideswipe, you’re fragging losing it./_

_/Don’t curse where my sparkling can hear!/_

Sunstreaker obliged, and instead held up his hand and made a rude gesture at his twin.

Sideswipe snickered wickedly. _/Nice./_

Springer had been standing near Prowl, still hissing something at him, but as Sunstreaker stepped up for his turn to climb down, the green mech abandoned the conversation and jogged over to his mate instead. 

“Here, let me go first.”

Sunstreaker frowned, already in a crouch with a hand on the rope. “Why?”

“If you slip, I want to be there to catch you.”

A _warm_ feeling ebbed down the bond, and Sideswipe turned away to hiding the sly approval on his face as Sunstreaker refreshed his optics at Springer.

“...How about I’ll go down first and I’ll catch _you_ if you slip?” he countered.

“I’d prefer--”

“Already going down.”

Springer cursed, but when Sideswipe looked over again the green mech was grinning as the tips of Sunstreaker’s head vents disappeared over the edge. As Springer crouched down as well and crawled backwards towards the cliff, Sideswipe felt a peak of _humor_ bounce towards him.

Sunstreaker had whispered something at Springer. Sideswipe hadn’t heard it, but whatever it was, it made Springer’s grin turn _goofy,_ and he spread his legs and wiggled his aft as he lowered himself over the edge.

Somewhere far below, he heard Jazz and a few other mechs snickering.

Then it was Sideswipe’s turn. Just as he was leaning down to grip the rope, a white hand closed over his black one.

“Are you ready for this?” Prowl asked him quietly. “The last several orns have been…”

“Tiring?” Sideswipe finished. “ _Sa,_ but the sparkling’s doing fine, and so am I. I’m ready to kick some aft.”

“That’s not...Sideswipe, we need every _yoska_ available to fight, but…”

Sideswipe’s optics grew a little wider.

_Oh._

Maybe having no one else object to him being there didn’t mean that there wasn’t a problem with a carrier fighting after all. That would explain why Springer, who was a mech usually itching to be the first one into a battle, had been snapping at Prowl for endangering them.

And here Sideswipe had been thinking that Springer didn’t like the idea that had the potential to go horribly wrong if the enemy camp was any better organized than a bunch of scavengers. For all they knew the Decepticons had re-strengthened and the Autobots had stumbled upon the first part of their plan for revenge. 

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Me and Sunny will synch up; he’ll help me concentrate if I get tired. We’ll use our bond being wide open during a fight to our benefit.”

Prowl squeezed his fingers. “...Both you and our sparkling will be safe once we have control of the field,” he said, and Sideswipe wondered if that had been meant for his mate or _himself._

He leaned forward and gave Prowl’s chevron a quick kiss. “When we get our tent set up, you and I will need to make sure this little scraplet has everything he needs to grow.” He winked. “And we’ll both need to work off some tension after the fight.”

“...If that’s what you want to call it,” Prowl mumbled dryly as Sideswipe picked up the rope and walked backwards towards the cliff.

There was a _poke_ on the twin-bond. _/You know I can feel that, right?/_

Sideswipe put his foot on the edge and tested his balance by leaning back before he answered his twin. _/Like you weren’t just telling Springer the same thing./_

He felt the equivalent of a _huff,_ but Sunstreaker didn’t dare send along anything more jarring while the two of them were descending a cliff. Putting the thoughts of what they would do after the battle out of his processor for a breem, Sideswipe focused instead on how and where he was placing his feet into the rockface and his hands on the rope as gravity pulled at him from the wrong direction.

The rope wiggled slightly as the _yoska_ closest to the ground jumped off, and Sideswipe bit down on his lip as he held it tighter.

Despite the new-spark already being calm and quiet, he felt his own spark’s field tighten protectively around it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The dust from the Minotoron herd had risen up into a plume and turned the northern sky bright-orange just before it instead slipped into the darker colors of twilight. Bluestreak and the other mechs who had not gone with the _yoska_ had done their jobs well; likely they were sending the Minotorons in circles over and over again until the dust cloud had swirled and made their location easy to spot. From Sideswipe’s position he would have reasonably thought that the majority of the Autobot tribe was on their way down the mountain right now.

No wonder the Decepticons had been able to follow them so easily a vorn ago. Megatron had simply waited for his army to rendezvous at his scouting team’s hideout at the same time that the Autobots had been trying to interpret the Iacon prophecy.

And speaking of Megatron…

Sideswipe raised himself up on his elbows to peer out behind the crystal outcropping he was hiding behind, and narrowed his blue optics at the figures leaving the enemy camp to reinforce the trap they were setting up where the roadway dipped into the valley. From this angle he could see dozens of mechs and femmes preparing to surprise where they thought that the Autobot tribe and their Minotoron herd would enter the plains. 

Creating the plume of dust had attracted most of the enemy mechs away from their camp, putting aside any other tasks in favor of assisting in the attack, just as Prowl had hoped they would do. But, despite the number of tents that had been set up--

_/I thought there’d be more./_

Sideswipe sent an _acknowledging_ pulse to his twin, the equivalent of a nod over their bond, and laid himself flat on the ground again, his poncho covering the shine of his armor and making him less likely to be spotted. He and all the other _yoska_ had pulled up their hoods, hiding the glow of their optics in the shadows. _/Yeah, especially with all the fires they’ve set up too. That’s a lot to manage for a group this size. Wonder where the rest are./_

All around him the rest of the _yoska_ were lying on their bellies behind cover, weapons at the ready for the moment that Prowl would signal the attack to begin. The white mech wasn’t ready to give the order, instead keeping a close watch on the shallow trench where Hound and Jazz had dared crawl closer to the tentline. As long as the enemy were concentrating on their own trap, the two mechs wanted to judge exactly what they were up against.

None of the _yoska_ had yet seen any enemies with wings. That meant that, at least, they weren’t the Seekers, Megatron’s elite warriors. But they couldn’t yet rule out that the camp was full of Decepticon reinforcements.

The thought of the slave army being used on them once again made Sideswipe’s tanks curl.

The stars were beginning to twinkle above them. Sideswipe glanced upwards at them, then shuffled through the hidden _yoska,_ slithering along on his elbows and fists, until he was at Prowl’s side.

“We’re not going to be able to see the dust cloud anymore in a few more breems,” he whispered to his mate. “They’ll think we’ve stopped moving for the night, and they’ll go back to the tents.”

“I know,” Prowl murmured, not taking his optics off where the shallow trench bent around a corner, the rest of it’s route hidden from view. 

“We need to attack before they get coordinated on top of all their supplies,” Sideswipe insisted.

“I _know,”_ Prowl replied shortly. “I want to make sure that we’re not going to run into any more surprises tonight.”

This time, Sideswipe spoke across their bond, keeping their conversation private. _/You’re doing fine, Prowl,/_ he sent to him, still keeping his optics locked on his mate’s. _/Everyone who’s going to be part of the herding camp is safe, and the enemy doesn’t know we’re here yet./_

Prowl’s fingertips clawed across the rust granules on the ground as he squeezed his hands until they shook. But he didn’t answer his mate verbally.

The _frustration_ ebbing off his spark lessened slightly when Sideswipe leaned forward and nuzzled his helm through their hoods. _/I trust you, and so does everyone else here. It’s not your fault that these aft-heads decided to set up shop near_ our _city. We’ll get them out, and then we’ll have a whole valley to keep the tribe safe in, okay?/_

Somewhere else, he felt a pulse from Sunstreaker as well. With their bond wide open, he knew that his twin had caught at least part of that.

Prowl let a long, quiet vent escape from him. He started to turn his head towards Sideswipe.

Then froze.

Both of their optics snapped instead to a rustling from the trench, right around its bend. They lay perfectly still, as did the _yoska_ nearest to them, until they saw the horns Jazz’s helm poke out around the corner.

“Good news,” the black-and-white mech whispered as he crawled up to them, Hound right behind him. “They’re definitely not ‘Cons. And they’ve set up _way_ too many tents for how many mechs they actually got. They were trying to look bigger than they were an’ scare us into not attackin’.”

_Relief_ bounced back and forth between the two mates. Prowl offered a hand to Jazz to pull him back onto level ground. “And any bad news?”

Hound didn’t look anywhere near as pleased as Jazz. “There’s a pen set up in the center of their camp,” he hissed. “Most of the mechs are waiting for us in the trap, but anyone who’s left is guarding the pen.”

“...They’re using it already?” Prowl asked, optics widening.

“ _Sa.”_

Sideswipe looked around at where any of the _yoska_ who had overheard them were growling in agitation. “What? What does that mean?” he whispered.

“It means I know why these mechs were waiting specifically outside Iacon instead of anywhere else in the wildlands.” Prowl turned away and addressed the other Autobots closest to him. “Get everyone spread out in a line. We’re going to call their bluff with one of our own, as soon as it's too dark for them to realize how many of us are right outside their camp. If they run, let them. Our objective is this valley, not to waste our lives on a bunch of scavengers.”

Whispers were mumbled from _yoska_ to _yoska,_ and the fabric of waist-cloths and ponchos rustled as mech hurried away to extend the line. Sideswipe frowned and instead focused on Hound.

“What’s so important about them using a pen? Are they, like, trying to take our Minotorons or something?”

Hound stared at him. “Minotorons would burst right through a pen like that.”

“Then what--”

“Sideswipe!” Sunstreaker hissed at his twin. “With me!”

Leaving his question on hold for a moment, Sideswipe mumbled a curse and hurried to follow his brother, the two of them crawling along their hands and knees as the Autobot _yoska_ scrambled to form up. “What about Prowl and Springer?!”

“Our mates are fine.” Sunstreaker threw his cloak over his shoulder to keep the trailing ends out of the dirt. “This group isn’t any bigger than we are, and if they’re scavengers, they’ll scare way more easily. And somebody’s got to keep an optic on you and your sparkling, since Prowl’s not going to!”

“You’ve been talking to Springer,” Sideswipe muttered, at the same time making sure that the new-spark was cradled tightly in his field. “Prowl needed _all_ of the _yoska_ to fight, I get that! I don’t blame him!”

“Yeah, well, I do.” The golden mech halted, then scooted around so that he was facing the enemy camp. “Synching up will help scare the slag out of them. Ready?”

“Ready.”

The two of them only needed to wait for a few breems longer. As the dust cloud from the Minotorons faded from view, and the enemy mech began to realize that they would not get the chance to spring their trap tonight and put their weapons down, the _yoska_ hurriedly finished forming a line at the rear of their camp.

There was a deep inhale of air from somewhere down at Prowl’s end, and the rest of the _yoska_ mimicked him. Then, as one, they burst up into view with a drawn-out _howl._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“AAA-WOOOO!!”

Pin-pointed red lights at the entrance to the main road snapped towards them, and it took Sideswipe a moment to realize that they were the optics of the mechs that had been waiting to spring their trap on the Autobots. Several of them had been walking back to their camp at a sedate pace, but now had frozen in horror at the sight of another tribe storming in from the darkened wildlands.

The _yoska_ continued to shout and howl as they ran forward, breaking through the tent line in less than a breem and rushing on. Orange firelight shined on what armor was not hidden by cloaks, ponchos and waist-cloths, proving that they were no illusion, they were _real_ and the enemy mechs had been ensnared in a trap while plotting their own.

As they ran, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s footfalls matched and syched, their arm pumping in time with one another’s, their gasps and vents matching up. The sound of two pairs of feet hitting the ground was tremendously loud as they reverberated off of one another, _stamp, stamp, stamp,_ and besides their color schemes the only way to tell the two mechs apart was that Sunstreaker’s cloak flowed and snapped behind him, while Sideswipe’s poncho billowed around his arms and chestplate.

Both taking in gulps of air, the twins howled again, the roar of their combined voices ringing through the camp, the failed trap on the road, and echoed off of the cliffs beyond.

“AAAA- _WOOOO!!”_

Shouts were returned their way. Not howls, not challenges. Snarls of orders, shrieks of terror, and the groans of doomed mechs who realized that they’d been out-maneuvered.

As they passed more of the tents, Sideswipe could now judge how many of them were _fake,_ holding absolutely nothing inside, not even a bedroll. Every so often the random mech or femme would stumble out of a real tent, see the oncoming enemy, then cry out and scurry away into the night. The Autobots followed Prowl’s orders and let them flee, sometimes with a snarled curse at them before pressing on, weapons in hand as they looked for enemies who _would_ fight.

As they neared the center of the camp, Sideswipe caught sight of the ‘pens’ that Hound and Jazz had been talking about, and here is where they _did_ meet resistance. Scavengers, dirtied armor patched and reinforced with bits taking machinery and thick cloths and _other mechs_ charged at them, crashing into their own line and trying to push them back. The momentum of some of the _yoska_ carried them right past the enemy, ducking or swinging past their weapons, while others gritted their dentals as they locked themselves into duels. 

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker’s swords glowed gold and red as they swung it out against their opposing mechs at the same angles, the same timing, injuring their enemies with similar blows. Gold flashed on Sideswipe’s red armor and red on gold as the caught another mech between them, slicing into him without having a chance to defend himself on both sides, before swirling to defend each other’s backs as other scavengers realized the danger that a pair of synched twins presented and zeroed in on them.

The twins happily accepted themselves as targets. Mech after mech were cut down, Sideswipe slicing high while Sunstreaker swung low, then crossing blades as they intercepted enemies trying to sneak into their flank, parrying, throwing the shocked mechs back and then thrusting both blades into the chestplate of a warrior who didn’t think they could coordinate so well. _Yoska_ hurried to assist them before they could be overwhelmed, pushing back the enemies who were quickly becoming skittish against a pair that fought like they shared a processor, while those who were too brave or too _stupid_ to acknowledge the danger were quickly cut down.

Mechs rushed back from the trap at different speeds, varying how many of them arrived at a time, and making it impossible for the scavengers to counter-attack in a unified effort. This was the type of fighting that the trained _yoska_ excelled at, barely needing to shout instructions at one another as they instead relied on trust built through vorns of practice, knowing where each one would be and what they would do. Sideswipe and Sunstreaker soon found themselves out of mechs to fight; the scavengers were too occupied with the rest of the _yoska_ to dare to take them on.

There were still more running towards the camp. Freed from the battle line, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker glanced at each other, their bond sharing a mutual _smugness_ before they sneered at the oncoming mechs and _roared,_ throwing their arms back and baring their dentals.

About a third of the oncoming scavengers stuttered to a stop, some with their allies smashing into their backs. They reconsidered their options against two Autobot warriors who were marching towards them _in sync,_ and then decided that retaking their camp was not worth their lives. They fled, as did others, thinking that the retreat was mutual amongst the whole group, until most of the scavengers were fleeing, a few holdouts bellowing and screaming at them before needing to refocus their efforts on fighting for their lives.

Hound’s lasso had wrapped around the ankle of one of the scavengers, and he yanked the mech off of his feet. The mech went down hard, knocking the air out of him in a heavy gasp, and as his shaking hands flailed for his weapon, Jazz stalked towards the downed mech, his knives out--

“Disengage!” Prowl materialized out of the crowd, and snatched Jazz’s arm. “I said _disengage!_ If they’re running, let them go!”

“They could come back!” Jazz snarled.

“And many more never will, and will warn the rest of their kind to not try to attack us so close to Iacon again! Hound!”

The green mech grimaced at Prowl but nodded, and held his lasso as the scavenger, now realizing that he had not one but _three_ mechs hovering over him untied himself and crawled away frantically. 

In breems most of the scavengers were either dead or on the run. Shouts and gleeful howls echoed around them as the _yoska_ regrouped, looking for any more enemies to fight and making sure all heads were accounted for. Prowl’s helm twisted left and right as he assessed the situation, optics worried despite the clear indication that the Autobots had easily won with few injuries and no deaths.

Now that his systems were cooling, Sideswipe panted as he put a hand over the front of his poncho, his assessment turning inward towards his spark. The new-spark was fidgeting, confused and worried over the bursts of energy, anger and rage, but not in danger. Sideswipe tried to soothe it, even as his own spark wanted to spin and writhe wildly, his fuel pump pounding hard after the rush of fighting in sync with his twin.

Sunstreaker appeared right beside him. 

“Are you okay?” His twin’s optics were huge, his voice sincerely worried. 

“ _Sa._ Yeah, I’m okay.” He pulsed what he was feeling across their bond, the mash between _worry_ over his sparkling’s reaction of him being one of the strongest mechs on the field and the uplifting _power_ of a successful battle swirling and conflicting into an ugly ball that confused his spark. “That was, uh...kind of a _lot_ for the sparkling to feel.”

The light behind Sunstreaker’s optics glanced from Sideswipe’s to the hand over his poncho, and then back. “...It’s not hurt, is it?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s...I dunno how to explain it. I think it’s just _alarmed._ It got to see what’s _normal_ for you and me.”

Sunstreaker slowly nodded. His spark pulsed at Sideswipe’s.

The new-spark kept wiggling, uncertain and confused, but settled a little at the pulse, re-assured that nothing bad had happened to it’s carrier, even if the feedback was overwhelmingly _loud_ for a spark so small.

“Sideswipe! Sunstreaker!”

Both mechs snapped back to reality and turned their heads towards the pens.

The _yoska_ that weren’t making sure that no scavengers were waiting in the tents for their own surprise attack were instead trying to break into the pens. Now that Sideswipe had time to actually look at them, he agreed with Hound: there was no way the scavengers had built them to hold Minotorons. They were high enough that a mech couldn’t easily scramble over the walls, and secure enough that neither could they punch through with their bare hands, but a Minotoron could easily plow right through and escape. 

Yet, despite the lack of Minotorons being trapped inside, the _yoska_ were frantically trying to break the gate open.

It was only when the twins walked closer that they realized that there were frightened voices coming from within the pens.

Sunstreaker hissed. “Fragging _Primus!”_ He hurried forward to lend a hand, as did Sideswipe.

Most of what they were hearing from the pens was incomprehensible. There were _far_ more languages out in the wildlands than just Iaconian and the cities’ Standard, and Sideswipe guessed that was what was filling his audials as he joined the _yoska_ trying to saw through the chains locking the gates shut. There had to be dozens of mechs and femmes in there, all yelling and crying out as they realized that a new group had taken the camp.

“Is anybdy hurt in there?!” Sideswipe shouted in Iaconian, hoping that someone would understand him. When no one inside did, he switched to Standard. “Anybody hurt in there?! Hey! Anybody understand me?!”

“...Hello?!”

Sideswipe stopped working and took a step back, as did Sunstreaker. Prowl looked up, but didn’t stop trying to break through the lock as the twins pressed up to the walls of the pens and tried to speak through any holes in the slats.

“Hey! Two of us speak Standard out here! You okay?!”

“Oh, thank Primus!” the voice inside shouted above the rest. The slats rattled as fists pounded on them. “Finally! Some of us are injured, please, get us out!”

Sunstreaker cupped his hands over his mouth. “We’re working on it! Are you a Decepticon?!”

“A _what?!_ No, my name is Blurr! I’m from Polyhex! Help us, please!”


	9. Bomb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I got the job! I'm now working in a 911 center. 
> 
> Because I'm still a trainee my schedule has been hopping all over the place, so still no consistent writing schedule. Hopefully that'll be coming soon though!

Chapter 9: Bomb

Still rubbing his sore wrists, Blurr looked up from where he and several other of the rescued mechs were sitting around one of the dozen fires, hastily-made for the scavengers’ former prisoners once they were free of the pens. Few other mechs sat with him. The wildland-mechs preferred their own kind, and the city-mechs huddled together in even smaller groups.

“So how in the Pit did a couple of mechs all the way from Kaon end up this far north with a bunch of _barbarians?”_ he asked the two Autobots who gave him more than passing attention, his smile small and tight as he rubbed where the ropes had scratched away his paint.

“It’s a long story.” Aluminum can of energon pellets jangling in hand, Sideswipe settled down cross-legged to the right of the city-mech, and Sunstreaker sat down on Sideswipe’s right side. The can was offered to Blurr. “Here. It’s fuel, from Iacon’s vein. I swear, it tastes better than it looks.”

Blurr crinkled his facial plates, his audial fins flattening down against his helm, but he took the can anyway. “Pardon me for saying so, but this looks like turbo-fox excrement.” A blue finger reached inside of the can and poked at the pellets.

Sideswipe snorted out a laugh. “You’re not wrong, mech! What this tribe does is cook and dry out the energon into these little things, because liquid energon weighs too much. These are condensed.”

Blurr still picked at the pellets suspiciously, but eventually held one between two fingers and took a nibble out of it. Immediately his optics lit up, and he popped the rest of it into his mouth before digging in for more.

Around them the _yoska_ who were still on duty were passing out spare ration cans with rescued mechs at the other fires. Most of the wildland-mechs took the fuel gratefully. But nearly all of those who appeared to not be native to the wildlands sneered and turned their heads away, either not understanding what the ration cans were, or not trusting their rescuers any more than they had the scavengers.

Beyond the collection of fires, more _yoska_ were dismantling the scavengers’ camp and taking apart the tents to add them to their own stock. Despite the irony of scavenging from _scavengers,_ Sideswipe couldn’t blame the tribe for taking advantage of the free tent material, especially when he remembered that the surviving scavengers that had tried to ensnare and kill them were now recharging exposed to the elements, if they weren’t still running all through the night. He’d snickered vindictively at that when he’d first figured it out.

Further than that, at the edge of the field, Bluestreak and the other Autobots who had not participated in the battle were _finally_ descending the hill with the Minotorons, helped by Prowl and a few other _yoska_ who had jogged up the path to tell them that it was finally safe to make camp. The herd found their own crystal patch and stamped towards it, instinctively not straying too far from the Autobots, though they would still graze where they pleased until it was time to move again. Several mechs at the fires, especially those who looked like they’d come from the cities, eyed the giant mech-animals warily, worried that they’d suddenly turn on the camp and stampede right over them.

After letting Blurr refuel himself for a few breems, Sideswipe leaned forward and offered him a spare waist-cloth out of his subspace pocket. “You’ll want to put this on while you’re here. This tribe gets, uh, _antsy_ if you’re walking around naked for too long.”

Blurr refreshed his optics. “Naked? My armor plating is intact.” He gestured to his streamlined, clearly expensive custom frame. “Look, tell them that just because it’s built better than most other mechs, it doesn’t mean that I’m exposing wiring--”

“Wait a minute!” Sunstreaker jolted forward, his blue optics glowing. Surprised _elation_ shot down the twins’ bond, making Sideswipe’s sparkling _jump_ at the same time that he did. “I know you! You’re Blurr!”

“Sunny, he’s said that like three times already,” Sideswipe snorted.

“No, I mean, Blurr! _The_ Blurr! The racer from Polyhex!”

“...Oh! Wait, what the _frag?!”_

It had been more than a vorn since the last time that Sideswipe read the gossip datapads being hawked on the streets of Kaon, and even longer since he’d watched a race with any more passing interest than that it happened to be playing on one of the monitors at the bar. But of course Sunstreaker would recognize who Blurr was quicker than Sideswipe, and not because he had any more interest in the races than his twin. 

Blurr was streamlined, after all, and had plenty of sponsors to ensure he stayed that way with the best quality materials. 

Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure that Blurr had been posing on the cover of at least one of his zines back at the apartment in Kaon. One of the zines that Sunstreaker kept stealing and then quietly replaced as if Sideswipe hadn’t noticed it missing.

Optics just as bright as his brother’s, Sideswipe tried to keep his frame from bouncing around. “What in the raging Pit are you doing here, Blurr?! And this far north too! Also, can I have your autograph?! Sunny, I think there’s a spare piece of leather around here…”

“You’re going to have him sign Minotoron hide?”

“What do you want me to do, go all the way back down to Kaon, sneak into our apartment _where I’m pretty sure they’ve already changed the locks,_ and grab your sketchbook?! I wouldn’t do it if we were any further than the ninth city sectory, the taxi fare would cost me a cycle’s worth of rent!”

Blurr chuckled lightly to himself and took the waist-cloth before Sideswipe could flail it around. “There goes any doubt in my mind that you were lying about being from Kaon. Their transport fares are straight-up cons.”

“See?! See?! Even _The Blurr_ agrees with me! He wouldn’t go all the way across Kaon to get something to write on for...his own autograph?” Sideswipe paused. “We’re getting off track. Blurr, how’d you end up all the way up here in a scavenger’s camp?! I thought that when you traveled between cities you went with, like, half-a-dozen bodyguards or something!”

“...When I was going between races, I did. I started out with even more this trip.”

Putting the can down for a moment, Blurr sat up to wrap the waist-cloth around himself and tie it. It was a spare, unflattering brown one, just like the one the Autobots had put around Sideswipe when he’d first been captured and was meant simply for his modesty if his regular one was somehow destroyed. Other _yoska_ were offering more waist-cloths to the rescued mechs; some took them, some did not. The city-mechs who rejected the waist-cloths continued to glower at the Autobots and huddle close to each other.

Blurr had stopped talking, but at the imploring stares that he was getting from Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, he scrubbed his hand over his face before continuing. 

“I wasn’t going to a race. I was escaping Polyhex before the bombing started.”

“...”

“...Before the…”

It took both Sideswipe and Sunstreaker several micro-breems to interpret what Blurr had said. And then several more to interpret the _nausea_ bouncing back and forth between their sparks.

And then a few more after that to toss away what they’d clearly misheard, because it was so _ridiculous._

“Yeah, I don’t like when they set off fireworks for parades either,” Sideswipe tried, ignoring the painful churning in his tank as a voice sang in the back of his processor _'There was going to be a war! There was going to be a war! You knew there would be a war!'_ “It’s really annoying. Scares the scrap out of me because it sounds like an actual--”

“Bombing. Nobody sets off fireworks anymore, in any of the cities. The materials could be used more effectively by the artillery.”

“...What?”

Sideswipe’s spark felt like it had stuttered to a stop. His field pulled his resting sparkling in tight, as if an enemy would suddenly manifest inside the spark chamber and threaten it.

“What artillery?”

Sunstreaker all but _squirmed_ through their bond. _/You don’t think they--?!/_

_/Perceptor said they eventually would. But this is too fast! They’re supposed to be still preparing right now, flexing their servos at each other!/_

_/Blurr said_ bombing./

After pressing the fabric over his legs to hide his crotch plate, doing his best to match how Sideswipe and Sunstreaker were wearing theirs, Blurr bit his bottom lip as he tried to determine how to answer the horror in their wide optics.

“...How long have you two been away from the cities?” he asked slowly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Tyger Pax fell early. They had no warning against the missiles Tarn launched, let alone a way to stop them. Their outer walls weren’t just breached, they were _flattened._ Tarn’s army stormed in less than an orn later.”

Sideswipe was struggling to keep his tanks under control and not purge up the energon pellets he’d been in the middle of converting. He slipped a hand up his poncho and his fingertips scratched at his chestplate, unable to reach in and soothe a sparkling who was not reacting well to the waves of _revulsion_ flowing around it. Across the bond, Sunstreaker’s spark agreed with its other half, the twistings of his twin’s spark slithering in and agitating Sideswipe’s further. 

_Fell_ was an ambiguous term, right?! Tyger Pax was attacked, but now it was politically controlled by Tarn, not just _gone,_ right?!

“They’re barely more than a village,” Sunstreaker murmured, his processor on the same train of thought at Sideswipe’s. “Do they even have a viable energon vein?! I thought they were dependent on--”

“Gygax, yeah.” Blurr had stopped refueling and instead hugged his knees. “But that was _why_ they attacked them. Destroying Tyger Pax eliminated Gygax’s nearest ally and weakened them. The Primes were losing their processors over Tarn having the bolts to _raid_ the city on top of, you know, _attacking it,_ but no one tried to stop them. I think everyone wanted to show off how big and powerful they were by aiming their weapons at Tarn, but nobody wanted to admit that they didn’t have enough energy for ammunition. Then Kalis figured that if nobody could stop them, then they could do the same thing and steam-roll Axiom…”

Blurr was not a politician. He stumbled over what had happened, and _why_ it had happened, but he did his best to retell everything of the past vorn to Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. 

Sometime during his story, Sideswipe found Sunstreaker’s fingers in his palm, and he squeezed them without a second thought.

They’d suspected that affairs in the cities had gotten worse since they’d left (or rather, since Sideswipe had been captured by the Autobots and Sunstreaker had run after them), but not like this. Not in their worst nightmares was it like _this._

It was unreal. Sideswipe kept telling himself that Blurr was not well-versed in current events and was most knowledgeable of rumors of the worst kind. _No way_ could what he was telling them really have come to pass, all while they had been safely hidden away from the world.

While they’d been spelunking in the caverns underneath the ruins of Iacon, the minicons in each of the cities had worked round-the-clock shifts in a frantic effort to bring as much energon to the surface as possible. Mine collapses were mere inconveniences, the trapped mechs doomed to suffocate or starve as the cities unanimously concurred that the victims were a drain on resources in a state of emergency.

While Sunstreaker had been spending joors brushing out Bob’s fur and failing to teach him to behave himself, ordinary citizens were drafted and converted to military-grade armor, and rushed to heavy transports to organize waves of invasions against the smaller cities.

While Sideswipe had been having endless fun sending random pulses across his bond with Prowl just to see his mate’s doorwings flare out in surprise, other bonds were being torn apart as mechs and femmes deactivated on the battlefield to save their Conjunx Endurae still living at home. A secondary crisis was that of thousands of civilians were rendered inoperable at the same time that the militaries took heavy losses. Little funding could be spared for citizens who could not work, let alone fight, and they were left to rust in their homes.

While Sideswipe and Prowl had been trying for a sparkling, dozens of programs meant to protect the sparklings and younglings from the planet-wide war were either destroyed or corrupted. There were rumors of several cities funneling younglings into combat programs and upgrading them into frames their sparks could barely handle, their fates doomed as the most disposable of the soldiers since they would not survive the vorn anyway.

While Perceptor had been trying to determine what was the mystery element missing from Iacon’s energon vein and caring for his adopted sparkling, his home-city of Tarn had been launching the most destructive weaponry seen in anyone’s lifetime, obsessed with eliminating any threats to their home at the same time as they hungrily snapped up city after city, vein after vein, the orange streaks of missile launches becoming a common sight near Tarn every night. 

Sideswipe recalled that the tipping-point for Perceptor to abandon Tarn, just before his expedition had been found by Drift and Ironhide, was that he was about to be forcibly transferred to a city-run lab to develop war machines. Perceptor had escaped from that life, but Sideswipe had little doubt that his friends and colleagues from Tarn were to blame for missiles at were ending hundreds of lives every day.

By Primus, how was he supposed to tell Perceptor about this?! 

And all that Blurr was telling them was from a viewpoint of a citizen who, through wealth and fame, had avoided his own draft. He couldn’t tell them about the battles, the destruction, only what he heard second-hand from rumors and first-hand from media reports before the planet-wide news coalition had been dismantled, the networks fearing spies among one another. He’d been lucky enough to get warning from friends-of-friends that bombers were on the way to Polyhex, and he’d abandoned the city joors before it went into lockdown.

“I left nearly everything behind,” he said, his voice far quieter than when he’d started a joor ago as he stared into the fire. He took a ventilation to steady himself, his arms hugging his knees tight. “I took a detachment of bodyguards with me, ones I knew were loyal and had no family left in Polyhex that they’d want to protect. We were going to go to Simfur, but on the way…”

He nodded his head towards the broken pen, the gates permanently snapped open once the _yoska_ had broken the locks.

“They were waiting for us, less than two orns outside of the Polyhex. They were scooping up refugees, anybody who was trying to escape the fighting who wasn’t with a military detachment. I saw at least five other groups being captured as they forced us to march north. And all along the way, they’d find other _barbarians,_ and there’d be an exchange, weapons or energon or whatever Primus-knows they wanted, and then they’d drag away one of the refugees…all of my bodyguards were traded away by the time we got to the mountains...”

Blurr’s frame clenched up, and he pressed his forehead down to the top of his knees.

The crackle of the fire nearly hid the wheeze of his vents as he tried to get his frame to stop shaking.

“Hey. _Hey.”_ Ignoring the pained twists of his own spark, Sideswipe climbed to one knee and placed a hand on the blue mech’s shoulder. Blurr flinched, and Sideswipe pulled his fingers back, but kept his voice low and cool as he spoke anyway. “That’s over now. All those fraggers are running down the mountain right now, and with a bigger tribe claiming the area, they won’t be coming back.”

Blurr didn’t answer him. His face stayed pressed down against his knees.

Sideswipe tried again. “You’re safe now. The Autobots...they’re nothing like the scavengers that you ran into. They’re _herders._ They don’t work the same way that the tribes that prey on the cities do.”

Still, Blurr didn’t answer. Sideswipe glanced at Sunstreaker and gave him a helpless look.

With a short sigh, Sunstreaker stood and unsubspaced a thin blanket, and walked around the fire to drape it over Blurr’s shoulders, to barely any reaction.

The golden mech said nothing to the racer. Instead, he sat back down on next to him, shoulder-to-shoulder, then gestured for Sideswipe to do the same on Blurr’s other side, sandwiching the racer between them.

It took Blurr several breems to stop shaking. And still the twins remained, as the fire in front of them grew smaller, and other rescued mechs rested on each other as some dared to try to recharge.

Both twins had sat up all night on guard duty in worse weather than just a chill. Ignoring the draw of returning to the wagons and setting up tents, they remained where they were.

As the night wore on, it finally struck Sideswipe that while the other city-mechs had grouped together, away from those native to the wildland, Blurr had been ostracized and alone, even though he should have been recognizable to all of them. Who wouldn’t go to someone they recognized in an emergency, even if it was a celebrity that they knew only by face?! Primus only knew that was why so many citizens of Kaon had trusted and followed Sentinel Prime even as he ran their city into the ground.

He had to soothe the sparkling down when the answer came to him.

 _/Sunny. Sunny, I think the rest of the city-mechs are mad at him./_ Sideswipe glanced across Blurr at Sunstreaker. _/He almost got away scot-free, compared to the rest of the planet. He had the credits to leave whenever he wanted. The rest barely got their afts out in time./_

But despite the privacy of their bond, Sunstreaker didn’t respond.

He pulled the golden cloak over his shoulders tighter around himself, and Sideswipe tried to ignore the sensations he was feeling over the wide-open bond.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“The planet fell apart without us, Sideswipe.”

Sideswipe paused from where he was kicking out the smolders of the fire in the pre-dawn light. 

“Not _without_ us,” he responded in Iaconian, aware of the blue mech sleeping on the ground nearby. The night had been almost over before Blurr finally calmed down enough to slip into a recharge. “It was going to happen whether we had stayed or not. Slaggin’ Primes have been setting themselves up for it for vorns.”

“And the rest of the planet got caught up in the crossfire.”

“But not us.” Sideswipe raised an optic ridge, suspicious of where his brother was going with this. “We didn’t even _know_ until now.”

Further down the field, away from where the rescued mechs were either resting or recharging, the Autobots who had elected to sleep in tents that night were rising and preparing for the day’s work of setting up the rest of the camp. Somewhere among them was Prowl, and Sideswipe’s spark ached to return to his mate. The sparkling agreed with him.

“We can’t pretend that there isn’t a planet-wide war happening,” Sunstreaker insisted, turning away to shake out his cloak, his palm smacking away the dust on the end far more aggressively than usual. 

“Sunny, what’s happening everywhere else is _beyond_ horrifying, if Blurr got even half of that right. But it doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

“Are you serious?!”

“ _Sa!_ Pit, have you considered that Blurr doesn’t know what he’s talking about?! Conscripting whole populations, overrunning and _eliminating_ smaller cities, putting fragging _younglings_ on the front lines, does that sound real to you?! When things are scary, mechs tell and retell the worst stories and there’s nobody to verify if it’s true or not!”

“You don’t really believe that the planet is at war?!”

Sideswipe groaned. “ _Na,_ I do believe it. But the _extent?_ Probably not. And besides, it doesn’t affect us at all. Maybe some of the traders will be impacted, but that’s it.”

“...You really don’t care, do you?” Sunstreaker spun to face his brother, cloak whipping around his legs. “There’s thousands of mechs _dying_ every orn while we’ve been fragging _herding,_ and that doesn’t disturb you at all?!”

“Of course it does!” Sideswipe hissed, glancing once at the camp to make sure they hadn’t disturbed anyone still trying to recharge. “The whole Primus-fragged planet turned into slag while we were gone for a vorn! But there’s also nothing we can do about it.”

“You had friends. Maybe if we get a message to them, they can evacuate and come here, just like Blurr--”

“Get a message all the way down to Kaon?! Sunny, you realize how far north we’ve come, right?! Kaon’s all the way on the other pole! I’m not going all the way back down there just to give them a letter and _maybe_ they’ll follow us back up to Iacon!”

“We can’t just sit around here and let them die!”

“Oh, can’t we?!” Sideswipe snarled. “Did you forget that Sentinel tried to use me as a sacrifice to the Decepticons?! And that he would have probably used you as the back-up sacrifice if you hadn’t gone after me with the minibots?!”

“That’s not the fault of--”

Sideswipe’s tanks squeezed as understanding dawned on him. “Wait a tic. You want to go after _him,_ don’t you?!”

Sunstreaker winced. “...I’m sure he got out…”

“You don’t care about the rest of Kaon at all! You just want to make sure that creation of a pleasure-bot isn’t in the crossfire! _Sunstreaker!”_

“And so what if I am?!” Sunstreaker snapped back. “He’s the last person I spoke to in Kaon before I left for good! To find _you!”_

The red mech closed the distance between them and pointed at his brother’s chestplate. “If I ever see him again, I’ll rip his spark chamber right out of his cortex _and make him eat it.._ And you want to try to keep him away from the fighting?! I’d dance if he gets blasted in the head with a lucky shot, maybe from me! UNFF!”

He stumbled backwards. Sunstreaker stepped forward and shoved him again, keeping him off-balance.

The noise woke up Blurr, who sat up and and snapped his head left and right, terrified optics looking for danger. “What’s happening?!” he asked in Standard.

“He doesn’t deserve to get killed in a war that he has nothing to do with!” Sunstreaker hissed in Iaconian, completely ignoring the blue mech as he closed in on Sideswipe again. But Sideswipe stood his ground, frame tensed and hands out to grab Sunstreaker if he tried to shove him again.

“And _we_ don’t have anything to do with it either! Sunny, he’s _gone._ If he wasn’t impressed into the army, then he fled somewhere else, and we’ll never find him. There’s no point in worrying about that piece of slag. And aren’t you happy with Springer?! Why are you going to put that in jeopardy for a mech who _ignited you and ran?!”_

 _Rage_ swelled down the bond. The new-spark cowered against Sideswipe’s spark, and he wrapped it up in his field.

“He was _scared!_ I forgave him, Primus fraggit!” Sunstreaker roared. “Who do you think I made that last mural for?!”

“You didn’t answer me. _Are you happy with Springer?!”_

“Of course I am! That doesn’t mean I can’t go try to help--”

“And are you going to leave me behind?!” Sideswipe patted his chestplate under his poncho. “Did you forget that I’m carrying?! I’m not leaving the camp for any further than patrols, even if there wasn’t a planet-encompassing war.”

That finally gave Sunstreaker pause. Thinking fast, Sideswipe pressed his luck by taking a step closer and hissing under his vocalizer.

“If you leave, and you don’t come back...what happens to my sparkling?! Think about that, _Sunstreaker._ Think about it. Pit, this? Just this? _You’re scaring it.”_

 _Horror_ and _disgust_ cascaded down on top of Sideswipe, and then became...a trickle.

Both twins recoiled. The bond snapped right back open wide, the maelstrom of noise and feelings and the other’s _thoughts_ roaring back in as if they’d only been interrupted by a malfunctioning audio speaker.

Sideswipe’s hands immediately slapped over the front of his poncho, his optics huge. “Holy _frag._ Sunny…”

“What’s happening?!” Blurr was instantly at their sides, a hand on each of their shoulders as he spoke rapidly in Standard. “HEY!! Are you hurt?! What’s going on?!”

This time Sunstreaker finally responded in Standard, though his voice was low. “Is it okay?”

“...Yeah. Yeah, it’s okay. Primus _fraggit_ Sunny!”

The abrupt narrowing of the bond, after being blown wide open for several orns, was just as shocking for the sparkling as it was for both of the twins. It writhed and dove into the niche in Sideswipe’s spark, and Sideswipe’s field wrapped around it warmly, tightening more than he would like in a very real _fear_ that his new-spark had been harmed, but it showed no sign of sputtering, only confusion that something that had been connected to it since the moment of its ignition was now muffled and far away.

 _/Yeah, I never like it either, scraplet,/_ he muttered to himself. _/And that’s just a narrowing. Sunny’s not that mad that he’ll put a block up right now. I think./_

Sunstreaker’s optics were narrowed tightly, discerning his brother without tapping into their bond. “So I guess that answers that question,” he said flatly.

There was a sense of _twisting,_ and then the morbid curiosity and _caution_ ebbing from Sunstreaker muffled ever so slightly.

Then a little more.

And then a little more.

Sideswipe’s vents hissed. His fingers stayed clutching to the front of his poncho. “What question?! Of whether doing that that would _kill_ my sparkling or not?! Weren’t you the one so scared about hurting it?!”

Blurr’s jaw was hanging open. “A _what?!_ Who’s hurting a sparkling?!”

“Don’t worry about it.” Turning away, though still keeping a long glare at Sideswipe over his shoulder, Sunstreaker pushed Blurr aside. “It’s clearly just fine. And if you’ll excuse me…”

“Is this to test how far you can go without hurting both me and my sparkling?!” Sideswipe screeched at Sunstreaker’s retreating back.

This time Sunstreaker didn’t respond at all. Or, if he had over the bond, Sideswipe didn’t hear him.

He couldn’t hear _anything_ besides _frustration._

Mouth pressed in a tight line, Sideswipe let him go. His attention remained on his sparkling and calming it down, letting it take comfort in his field until it had gone from shivering back into its usual involuntary squirms and wiggles.

“...Sideswipe?”

His vision and awareness of reality seeped back into his cortex, and he stared at Blurr blankly until he understood exactly how much of the exchange Blurr had understood, or even _seen._ His hands slowly fell away from his poncho.

“Eh...sorry. My brother can be a pain in the aft sometimes,” he mumbled, trying and failing to pass it off as insignificant. “That was him getting tired of listening to me.”

“Is that what you call that?!”

“Yeah.”

Sideswipe looked past Blurr at where Sunstreaker was trying not to show off how urgently he was moving as he looked for...something. Someone. If he was looking at all, and not just trying to escape Sideswipe.

An orn ago, Sideswipe would have said that he was looking for Springer.


End file.
